Chapter 2

The drive back to my now-former city apartment was a blur.

My key still worked, a small mercy.

The place felt cold, empty. My job, my family, my entire life, ripped away in a matter of hours.

Why?

The SAT report lay on my coffee table, a silent accusation.

Chloe. It had to be about Chloe.

The next morning, I went to the Harrison family' s city apartment building, the one where Chloe and I had spent parts of our childhood.

Mr. Henderson, the building superintendent, had been there for decades. He knew Chloe well. He' d always been kind to her, sneaking her cookies when Mother wasn' t looking.

I found him in the lobby, polishing the brass fixtures.

"Mr. Henderson," I said, my voice hoarse.

He looked up, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "Mr. Ethan. Didn' t expect to see you."

"I need to ask you about Chloe," I said, pulling out the SAT report. "Do you remember anything about this? About her scores?"

He took one look at the paper, and his face went white.

His eyes darted around the empty lobby as if expecting Harrison ghosts to materialize.

"I… I can' t talk about that, Mr. Ethan," he stammered, handing the report back as if it burned him.

"Please, Mr. Henderson, anything."

"They' re powerful people," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I have a family. I can' t."

He turned and practically fled into his office, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Fear. That' s what I saw in his eyes. Overwhelming fear.

My next stop was Northwood Academy, Chloe' s prestigious private high school.

The place reeked of old money and hushed scandals.

Principal Albright, a woman with a reputation for iron-fisted control over the school' s image, agreed to see me after I mentioned I was a Harrison.

Her office was opulent, overlooking manicured lawns.

"Mr. Harrison," she said, her smile tight. "What can I do for you?"

"It' s about my sister, Chloe," I began, laying the SAT report on her polished mahogany desk. "I found this. I' m trying to understand…"

Her eyes scanned the document. The smile vanished.

Her face hardened, her eyes turning flinty.

"Chloe Harrison," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "Are you here to dredge up that unfortunate business again?"

"Unfortunate business?" I asked, taken aback.

"Her… instability. The embarrassment she caused this institution and her family."

"But these scores…"

"Scores are not everything, Mr. Harrison," she snapped, pushing the report back towards me. "Some students are simply not a good fit, regardless of aptitude. Chloe was a deeply troubled girl. We prefer not to have her name associated with Northwood."

She stood up, a clear dismissal. "Now, if you' ll excuse me, I have important matters to attend to. Matters concerning students who reflect positively on our school."

Hostility. Contempt. And a fierce desire to bury Chloe' s memory.

The wall of silence was growing higher, thicker.