Chapter 3 - The Video
By breakfast, the video had reached almost two hundred thousand views.
I knew because Priya came to my house at eight in the morning and announced the number before saying hello.
“Two hundred thousand.”
I stared at her.
“Good morning to you too.”
“Sorry.”
She hugged me.
Then looked at the dress hanging near the laundry sink.
“You kept it.”
“Of course.”
She touched one sleeve carefully.
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
Dad entered.
“Coffee?”
Priya immediately straightened.
It was still strange for people who knew Daniel Hart from business magazines to see him wearing sweatpants and holding a coffee pot.
“Yes, sir.”
“Daniel.”
“Yes, Mr. Daniel.”
Dad looked at me.
“I like her.”
The humor lasted thirty seconds.
Then his lawyer arrived.
So did Dr. Amelia Grant, director of the Hart Family Foundation.
Dad had not called them to punish Victoria.
He had called them because the foundation had a formal relationship with Westbridge.
Amelia placed several documents on the table.
“This is bigger than the gala.”
I frowned.
“How?”
The Hart Foundation funded approximately thirty percent of Westbridge’s scholarship program.
Part of the agreement required the school to maintain anti-harassment reporting systems and provide annual data on student safety.
Amelia looked at me.
“Did you ever report Victoria?”
“No.”
Priya interrupted.
“I did.”
Everyone turned.
My mouth opened.
“What?”
“Last year.”
“To whom?”
“Mrs. Palmer.”
My stomach dropped.
Priya pulled out her phone.
She still had the email.
I am concerned that Victoria Sinclair and several students are repeatedly targeting Elena Hart because she is perceived as poor.
Mrs. Palmer had replied:
Thank you. I’ll keep an eye on the situation. Teenage friendships can be complicated, so I encourage Elena to speak up if she feels uncomfortable.
Dad read it.
Once.
Then again.
His jaw tightened.
“Anything else?”
Priya hesitated.
“Yes.”
She had screenshots.
Group chats.
Edited photographs of me.
Comments about my clothes.
A picture of me carrying donated books with:
Maybe they let her keep the leftovers.
Another:
Westbridge charity case spotted in natural habitat.
I wanted the floor to open.
Dad didn’t look angry anymore.
He looked devastated.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want you fixing everything.”
“I’m your father.”
“That’s exactly why.”
He sat back.
I continued.
“I wanted to know if I could handle things myself.”
“And could you?”
The question wasn’t sarcastic.
I thought carefully.
“Some of it.”
“And the rest?”
I looked at the screenshots.
“I got used to it.”
Dad closed his eyes.
“That’s not the same as handling it.”
He was right.
The school scheduled an emergency meeting.
I attended.
Not because Dad required it.
Because I wanted to.
Victoria arrived with her parents.
Her father, Charles Sinclair, looked furious.
Her mother looked embarrassed.
Victoria looked bored.
Principal Whitmore sat at the head of the conference table.
Mrs. Palmer was there too.
Whitmore began.
“What happened last night was completely inconsistent with Westbridge values.”
I nearly laughed.
Dad heard it.
“What?” he asked.
Everyone looked at me.
I swallowed.
“You say that every time something bad happens.”
Whitmore stiffened.
I continued.
“But values aren’t what you say afterward.”
Silence.
“They’re what people know they can do before.”
Mrs. Palmer lowered her eyes.
Charles Sinclair interrupted.
“My daughter made a mistake.”
Priya’s screenshots were spread across the table.
“A two-year mistake?” I asked.
Victoria finally looked at me.
“You weren’t exactly friendly either.”
I stared.
“That’s your defense?”
“You always acted superior.”
“Because I didn’t talk?”
“You acted like you didn’t need anyone.”
I almost laughed.
“You made fun of me every time I spoke.”
Victoria crossed her arms.
“So now because your father is rich, you get to destroy my life?”
There it was.
The thing she still didn’t understand.
“This has nothing to do with him being rich.”
“Of course it does.”
“No.”
I leaned forward.
“You thought humiliating me was okay when you believed I was poor.”
Victoria went silent.
“That’s the problem.”
No one spoke.
Even her parents.
Dad finally addressed Whitmore.
“Is Victoria being expelled?”
Whitmore hesitated.
“We are considering disciplinary options.”
“Why is that difficult?”
Charles Sinclair leaned forward.
“Because expulsion would be absurd.”
Dad looked at him.
“Would it?”
“They are teenagers.”
“Teenagers planned a public humiliation.”
“It was garbage.”
“It was deliberate harassment.”
Charles looked toward me.
“My daughter is seventeen. You are talking about damaging college applications over a dress.”
I answered before Dad could.
“No.”
Everyone looked at me.
“I don’t want her expelled.”
Victoria blinked.
Dad said nothing.
I continued.
“I want the school to investigate everything.”
Whitmore frowned.
“Everything?”
“All the reports. All the complaints. Every student who tried to say something before adults decided it was teenage drama.”
Now Mrs. Palmer looked pale.
“And I want an independent review.”
Dad’s expression changed.
Pride.
I knew it instantly.
Charles Sinclair looked relieved.
He shouldn’t have.
May you like
Because expelling one girl would have been easy.
What I was asking for might expose the entire school.
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