The dissolution of the “Inner Circle” effect was everywhere at school. There was a real ringing in the bells, as they say. The "Sawn your face! " and "Let's talk in the hallways" and the "Let's talk in the hallways. " And the rest of us who were quiet seemed to move our walk a little bit faster. Max wasn’t inundated with friends who loved him with gifts. He didn't get patted on the back. Max seemed like the center of it all.He ran down the hall, and a group of freshmen suddenly became silent and then said a collective, almost shy, “Hey, Max. ”A nod from the football coach. A knowing smile from Mrs. Davison, who now stared at him with a new respect. There were whispers, but they weren’t malicious. “Max is a legend, ” someone would murmur. “He actually cares, ” another adds, with some genuine surprise in their voice. Even more important was his wealth. They knew only that he had many friends. What he was saying was that he was honest. He was quiet. He was determined to defeat every cha

The last bell sounded, a joyful, crescendo sound that could be heard across the empty hallways. Lockers were closed, laughter echoed out of classroom doors, and the last students ran out into the sun and into the rays of afternoon sun and began to shed the weight of the school year like old skin. The campus. The battleground between quiet anxieties and hidden cruelty that felt so bitterly torn now seemed filled with a different kind of energy: a sort of camaraderie, a mutual respect, thanks in no small part to Max’s quiet, unchangeable leadership. The bullies were gone; their shadows had been replaced by another.With a small knowing smile Max held out Trisha ’s hand. “Ready? ” he asked, his voice low.Trisha squeezed his hand. “Ready for what? Freedom?”“Something like that, ” Max said, instructing her not toward the building’s main exit but the service stairwell at the back of the old house. The stairways creaked, the air cooler, dust motes dancing in the shafts of light passing thr

The next morning, the hotel’s common area, normally dark and quiet for early risers, was jammed with pupils and staff — Mr. Henderson, the harried history teacher and school trip coordinator, scurried through the mass of students with a stack of sleek, cream-colored envelopes in his hands, a little bit of a frantic vibration.“Alright, everyone, listen up! ” he shouted with a loud wind in his hair as he tried to imitate the noise with his voice and to sound like he was in a huge group. “Get down! I have an announcement! I have the best opportunity here!In fact when the students were already chatting up the new thing in Paris they relaxed a little because they had been promised something extraordinary.“Tonight, ” Mr. Henderson, rising with such importance, “we have been offered a truly exclusive invitation! An exclusive gala with the host of a very generous, but aloof, young entrepreneur! It’s a black-tie affair. You must wear formal clothes, but the hotel has told me that they are p

The ballroom in the gala hall—shining with crystal and whispered conversation—kept as it had done, with a gleaming, almost electric beauty, with Max and Trisha having entered. Whispers followed them—not of contempt, but of curiosity and admiration. Ethan, still trying to regain his composure, nervous about Max’s haute couture, fidgeted at Gina’s arm. His face was unmistakably uneasy.“Come on, Gina, ” he whispered, overbearing, oversensitive. “Let’s go and get some champagne. Don’t let him run up to you. It’s just a suit. Most probably rented. Or some similar knockoff, and he got it from another back alley in the Marais. ”He helped her to a bright champagne fountain and Gina stood there, her eyes wide as if unable to shut them away from Max.Max, apparently unaware of their persistent stares, was already meeting several eminent people, his calm demeanor certainly unafraid by the sudden explosion of attention. In an instant, he made brief but polite gestures, a shrugged nod there, a sl

The day after the gala, the school group headed to the other part of the city to attend another high-profile business networking event at a classy high-rise conference room overlooking the river Seine. A far less official but just as grand gathering, the event was designed to introduce the students to the world of international finance. The air was filled with whispered conversations, the tinkling of cups of coffee and the distinct smell of ambition: executive men in suit and tie walked, unshakable, with practice, exchanged business cards and polite smiles.Max (with Trisha) walked around the room with a quiet smile on his face. He wasn’t trying to get the attention, but it found him. He exchanged quick, polite nods with a number of executives, whom he met at the gala on Thursday evening. Jean-Luc Dubois was obviously busy.“As if everyone knows you here, ” Trisha whispered through him as they maneuvered past a crowd of financiers.“Jean-Luc is very... inquisitive, ” Max said, a faint