Took His Place in Prison, Now They Want Me Out

Scott's POV

Grandma looked confused. “Where are you all going?”

But Dad didn’t answer. He just grabbed my arm and started pulling me along.

The confusion on Grandma’s face deepened. She held onto me with one hand and grabbed the mesh bag with the other. “What is this? What are you doing with all this stuff?”

That was when my phone rang.

It was a call from the police.

“Mr. Adrian, you need to report to the station within twelve hours. Missing this window will affect the leniency of your confession.”

Grandma’s eyes widened in shock. “Adrian? What confession? That has to be a mistake!”

Lovell rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed. “He’s Adrian now. He and Scott switched identities. It’s too complicated to explain to you right now. We don’t have time. We have to go.”

Grandma clutched my arm tighter, refusing to let go.

Even in her old age, it didn’t take her long to figure it all out.

She burst into tears. “Scott, have you lost your mind?! After all your hard work, after becoming the top scorer, you’re just going to give your future away to that delinquent cousin of yours?!”

“You’re throwing away everything—your future, your life! What would your mother think, watching from above? Do you remember her last words before she passed? She begged you to live a good, honorable life… to make something of yourself!” she reminded.

Tears were already streaming down my face.

Still, I forced a smile and said, “Grandma, even without college, I can still make something of myself. Please, don’t stop me. If I don’t get there in time, it won’t count as turning myself in, and I’ll have to stay in prison even longer.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, pried her hands off me, and walked away as fast as I could.

Grandma tried to run after me, but Lovell blocked her.

Suddenly, Grandma cried out in despair, “Scott! If you walk out that door, I’ll kill myself right here!”

Instantly, I froze mid-step.

I turned around and saw the tears pouring down her wrinkled cheeks, and my heart ached like never before.

But I steeled myself, gritted my teeth, and said coldly, “Grandma, you promised Mom you’d take care of me. If you die, then when I get out of prison, no one will be there for me. So please, you have to live. Otherwise, how will you face Mom?”

Only then did she collapse to the floor, stunned, mumbling, “Why? Why is this happening?”

Dad and Lovell took the chance to drag me down the stairs and shove me into the car.

I sat there with my eyes closed, but I could still hear Grandma’s cries echoing in my head.

I’m sorry, Grandma.

We arrived at the police station quickly.

But Dad didn’t let me get out of the car just yet.

Lovell pulled out a tiny glass vial and a few cotton swabs.

She said calmly, “Scott, you and your cousin may look alike, but your fingerprints aren’t the same. That could be a problem. This is going to hurt, but hang in there.”

What she pulled out was sulfuric acid.

She dipped a cotton swab in it and started rubbing it on my fingertips.

The pain was excruciating. I screamed.

But she held my hand firmly, refusing to let me pull away.

It felt like fire drilling into my nerves, every fingertip burning straight to the bone. My whole body convulsed from the agony.

But Dad pinned my shoulders down, making sure I couldn’t move.

Lovell looked heartbroken. “I know it hurts. I’m so sorry. Just a little more. Almost done.”

Her face was full of sympathy, but her hands never stopped.

All ten of my fingers were burned.

By the time they were finished, my shirt was drenched in sweat, and my throat was raw from screaming.

Dad handed me a bottle of water with a kind smile.

The moment I took a sip to soothe my throat, they grabbed me again and pulled me out of the car, marching me straight toward the police station.