My Charity Case Wants $50k

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Rules don't apply to you now?!"

A sharp voice cut through the noise—but it wasn't Sharon. It came from a sweaty, balding guy who bulldozed through the crowd.

Robert Dickson. Dean of Student Affairs.

"You even respect this school?" he barked at me. "Think you're above the rules? Getting physical? You trying to land yourself in jail?" As he spoke, he shoved me hard to the side.

Then he turned to Sharon—and suddenly he was all charm. "Oh no, Ms. Brooke, please—calm down. Don't let this rattle you." Acting like she was straight-up royalty.

"Mr. Dickson? What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, keeping my voice cool. "Didn't you see who laid hands on who first?"

"I don't care who started it. What I saw was YOU grabbing Ms. Brooke, mouthing off, and trying to hit her!"

"Exactly, Mr. Dickson, you're absolutely right!" Sharon jumped in fast. "She knocked me over, refused to apologize, and now she's getting violent.

"What is she, some gangster? Someone call the cops before she seriously hurts someone!"

"You'd better apologize to Ms. Brooke immediately and pray she forgives you," Mr. Dickson said, shooting smug glances around. "Otherwise, not even the school can protect you."

Wow. I really underestimated our little charity case. Girl came with connections.

"Oh? So she's powerful now? Rich? Backed by someone important?" I asked, real curious who Sharon was hiding behind.

"Ms. Brooke was personally referred by the school board," Mr. Dickson said, lowering his voice like he was letting me in on some huge secret. "We've been instructed to treat her with special care."

Of course. Our education foundation didn't just sponsor underprivileged students—we also funneled donations to universities all over the state. Most schools gave our recipients the VIP treatment.

So Sharon's mysterious 'powerful connection'? Yeah. That'd be my family.

"Got it," I muttered. I was over it. Drained. Not about to waste another second on this circus.

I turned to walk away.

"Trying to run?!" Sharon lunged again, quicker this time. "You deaf or just dumb?! Don't you understand plain English?!"

I was ready this time. Dodged easily.

But then—bam. Another shove. Hard.

Roger.

Face twisted, eyes dark. He'd just pushed me. For her.