Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4 — The House of Cards Collapses
The police officer looked from the weeping manager to Principal Trent.
“Is this true, sir?” the officer asked.
Trent was sweating profusely.
“She is a disgruntled employee! She is lying to save herself!”
The manager shook her head violently.
“I have the emails!” she screamed.
“I saved every single email you sent me on my personal hard drive!”
She turned to the parents, tears streaming down her face.
“I’m sorry! I am so sorry! But he told me it was safe!”
“He told me it was just ugly food, not dangerous food!”
“He said the extra money from the premium fees was going to a new science lab!”
My dad scoffed loudly.
“There is no new science lab. The microscopes are ten years old.”
Mr. Miller stepped forward.
“But Trent sure has a brand-new Porsche in the parking lot. I saw it on the way in.”
The crowd gasped.
The pieces clicked together perfectly.
Two thousand dollars a month.
Six hundred students.
Ninety percent of the budget slashed.
Trent had been pocketing hundreds of thousands of dollars.
He was feeding us literal garbage to fund a luxury lifestyle.
The lead police officer didn't need to hear anymore.
He clicked his pen and put away his notepad.
He walked up to Principal Trent.
“Sir, place your hands behind your back.”
Trent’s eyes bulged.
“You can't arrest me! I have lawyers! I sit on the city council!”
“You can tell them all about it at the station,” the officer said, grabbing Trent’s wrist.
He spun Trent around and slapped a heavy pair of metal handcuffs on his wrists.
The click of the lock echoed loudly in the silent cafeteria.
Trent looked horrified.
He looked at the students.
He looked at the parents.
He looked at my dad.
“This will ruin my reputation,” Trent whispered, completely defeated.
My dad stepped close to him.
“Your reputation was built on rotting meat and lies.”
Dad looked him up and down.
“Consider this character building.”
The parents erupted into cheers.
They clapped as the police marched Trent out of the cafeteria.
The health inspector was busy putting bright orange ‘CONDEMNED’ tape across the kitchen doors.
The local news crew had arrived outside.
Through the windows, we saw them shoving microphones into Trent’s face as he was pushed into the back of a police cruiser.
The manager was also handcuffed and led away.
She didn't fight it. She just cried.
The nightmare was finally over.
My dad turned to me.
He put his heavy hand on my shoulder.
He looked around the ruined cafeteria, the spilled soup, the overturned tables.
“You started this?” he asked.
I nodded.
“I threw the first tray.”
Dad stared at me for a long time.
May you like
Then, a slow, proud smile spread across his face.
“Good boy.”
