“No, Senator,” Reynolds said, standing taller, broader, dangerous. “That is how your world works. You shield your son from consequences, buy his grades, protect his status. But honor is not something money can buy. And your son cannot break my daughter’s spirit.”
Reynolds advanced. “I raised my daughter to stand on her own. Yesterday, your son broke her lip. He did not break her soul.”
Bradford sneered. “Honor doesn’t get you into college. Power does.”
“Then you will lose,” Reynolds said. “This is not a negotiation. This is duty. When someone threatens your family, you respond decisively.”
Bradford’s confidence faltered. Reynolds left the room.
In the school basement, Mr. Thomas Keller, the janitor, worked meticulously at cleaning supplies. He paused only when Reynolds entered. “Colonel,” he said, voice low, “I know why you’re here. You’re looking for evidence.”