2026-07-08 03:31:09Chris sat back down at the table and opened his browser.
He knew exactly where to start. St. Augustine's Preparatory Academy had a website that looked the way the school looked in person He had visited the page once before, months ago, after James had pressed his face against the fence that Saturday. He opened it now and went through it properly this time. The academic programmes. The extracurriculars. The boarding facilities, the library, and the science block that had apparently just been renovated. He clicked through to admissions. The f*e structure was listed clearly. Annual tuition: twenty-two thousand dollars. Boarding: nine thousand. Uniforms, materials, and activity levy: six thousand. Total for one full academic year, all inclusive: thirty-seven thousand dollars. Thirty-seven thousand dollars against fifty-one thousand in his account. He didn't hesitate. He filled the enrollment form and submitted it A payment portal loaded. The total sat at the top of the page. $37,000.00 He entered his account details and pressed confirm. The processing screen lasted four seconds. “Payment Successful. Enrollment Confirmed. Welcome to St Augustine's Preparatory Academy. Enrollment documentation will be sent to the provided email address within minutes.” The email arrived even before he closed the payment screen He opened it. A formal admission letter, St Augustine's crest at the top, and James's full name in clean type beneath it. “Dear James Hayes, We are pleased to confirm your enrollment at St Augustine's Preparatory Academy commencing the next academic term…” Chris downloaded it. He looked at it on his screen and the smile that came was different from last night's quiet, dangerous smile. As he sat there smiling, his stomach grumbled loudly, signifying his hunger. The last time he had had something was the afternoon of the previous day. He patted his jacket pocket. The sixty dollars he had remaining was still there in his pocket. He could use that for food without any worries. He could eat. Properly. Without calculating... He grabbed a fresh set of clothes from his backpack and headed for the small bathroom down the hall to take his shower Chris stood under the water longer than necessary. Not thinking about anything in particular. Just standing there, letting the warmth do whatever warmth does when a person has been running on adrenaline and shock and grief for the better part of twenty-four hours. He thought about his father. "The world will be unfair to you, Chris. Specifically and repeatedly and sometimes brilliantly unfair. The question is never whether it will happen. The question is what you're made of when it does." He remembered one of his father's pieces of advice he received when he complained of life being unfair to him after he was sacked from school for his father’s inability to pay his fees back in grade six He turned off the water. He was towelling his hair dry, pulling on his shirt, and running the conversation with James through his head on how much to say, how to say it, and how to show him the letter without making it feel like charity from a brother who was supposed to be as broke as he was. He stepped out of the bathroom. James was sitting on the bed. He was still in his St Matthias uniform. His backpack was at his feet, bigger than usual, clearly packed with everything he owned. He was sitting very straight, both hands in his lap, and his face was dropped. Their mother's stubbornness. Their father's dignity. All of it sitting in a fifteen-year-old's face on the edge of a bed in a one-room apartment. When he saw Chris, something in the blankness shifted. "Hey," Chris said. "Hey." James's voice was flat and careful. Chris crossed the room and sat beside him on the bed. For a moment neither of them said anything. The city moved outside the window. "They told everyone," James said finally. "Before I left this morning. Mr Coleman made an announcement at breakfast." He paused. "He said your scholarship was revoked because you were caught stealing." Chris said nothing. "The other students were asking me about it." James kept his eyes forward, at the wall opposite, not at Chris. "They were saying things." "I know," Chris replied calmly "Did you?" James turned then, and his eyes were direct and serious and fifteen years old and there was no ambiguity in the question. He was not asking to be comforted. He was asking because he needed to know. "Did you steal anything, Chris?" Chris met his brother's eyes. "No," he said. Simply. Without decoration or defence. "I have never stolen anything in my life. I was framed. Someone at Virell set me up very carefully and very deliberately, and they used the scholarship board to make it stick." He replied James held his gaze for a long moment. Then he nodded. "Okay," he said. That was all. Okay. Complete and unconditional, the trust of someone who has had every reason to develop it over years. "So what do we do?" James asked. "We have both lost our scholarships." He looked around the room without finishing the sentence because the room finished it adequately on its own. Chris reached into his pocket. He took out his phone, opened his email, and pulled up the document he had downloaded an hour ago. He held the screen out to James without saying anything. James took the phone. He read the letterhead first. Chris watched his eyes track to the crest, to the name of the school, to his own name in the line beneath. He watched him read the first sentence, stop, and read it again. "This is ..." James looked up. "This is St Augustine's." "I know." "Chris, how did you …" He looked back at the screen, scrolling now, reading faster "This says fees paid. This says all fees paid. This says…" He stopped scrolling. He looked at his brother. "How?" Chris smiled. "I am going to explain everything," he said. "All of it. I promise. But right now I need you to know that you are going to St Augustine's, your fees are paid for the full year, and you are never going to have to worry about a scholarship board making decisions about your future again." He said James stared at him. Tears dropped from his eyes and a sob followed Not loudly. He sat on the edge of the bed with Chris's phone in both hands and the admission letter on the screen and cried Chris put his arm around his brother's shoulders. They sat like that for a while. Eventually James straightened. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his St Matthias blazer and he looked at the admission letter one more time. "St Augustine's", he said quietly. "St Augustines," Chris confirmed. James looked at him with eyes that were still wet but steady now "Dad would have gone crazy," James said. Chris laughed "Yeah," he said. "He really would have."
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11. The Anonymous Benefactor
Chris walked into classroom 9B as if he had never left it.Same desk by the third window, the one with the slight wobble on the left leg that everyone else avoided. Same view of the courtyard below. He pulled out the chair, set his satchel down, and sat.A few students who had followed from the corridor drifted in behind him, pretending to find their own seats while their eyes stayed fixed on him. He could feel them staring intently at him.He opened his notebook.He uncapped his pen.He waited for class to begin, and his face gave nothing away, and inside his chest his heart was running slightly faster than normal.…………………………….Back in the corridor, the crowd had begun to move awayStudents left away in twos and threes, heading toward their own classrooms, their whispered conversations trailing behind them.Principal Hargrove watched them go.He stood for a moment in the emptying corridor with his hands still clasped behind his back, looking at nothing in particular, the expression
10.Legal Return
The security officer who arrived first was a heavyset man named Mr Danladi, someone Chris recognised from two years of walking past the gate booth every morning. He moved through the crowd with the brisk, practised authority of someone trained to de-escalate, his radio crackling once against his shoulder before he silenced it."Alright, alright." He raised both hands, scanning the scene Tyler's grip still locked on Chris's shoulder, the crowd now a solid ring three and four students deep, phones everywhere. "What's going on here?""This is what is going on." Tyler released Chris's shoulder only to gesture at him with the same hand, like he was presenting evidence. "This student was expelled three days ago. For theft. He is trespassing on campus property right now, and I want him removed. Immediately."Mr Danladi looked at Chris. Then back at Tyler."Mr Brooks", he said, "I understand your concern, but I can't remove this student."The words landed in the corridorTyler blinked. "
9. Back Through the Gates
Three days inThe iron gate of Virell Academy looked exactly the same as it had three nights ago when he was leavingChris had walked through with nothing in his hands but a backpack and a letter of dismissal. He stood outside for a few seconds with a grin on his faceHe took a deep breath and murmured.“CHRIS IS BACK VIRELL, Y’ALL SHOULD WATCH OUT."He then started walking again through the gates and into the school.He was wearing the new uniformHe had gotten a haircut two days ago, a clean fade that a barber three streets from his old apartment He and James had moved into a two-bedroom that week, paid for in cashNo one stopped him.That fact alone sat strangely in his chest. Three nights ago this gate had been the wall between him and everything. This morning it opened for him like it always should have.He crossed the courtyardThe birthday lights were gone now. Ordinary morning light fell across ordinary stone, students moving toward their first classes in twos and threes.Hea
8.Surprise!!
Chris sat back down at the table and opened his browser.He knew exactly where to start.St. Augustine's Preparatory Academy had a website that looked the way the school looked in person He had visited the page once before, months ago, after James had pressed his face against the fence that Saturday.He opened it now and went through it properly this time. The academic programmes. The extracurriculars. The boarding facilities, the library, and the science block that had apparently just been renovated. He clicked through to admissions.The fee structure was listed clearly. Annual tuition: twenty-two thousand dollars. Boarding: nine thousand. Uniforms, materials, and activity levy: six thousand. Total for one full academic year, all inclusive: thirty-seven thousand dollars.Thirty-seven thousand dollars against fifty-one thousand in his account.He didn't hesitate.He filled the enrollment form and submitted it A payment portal loaded. The total sat at the top of the page.$37,000.00
7.Real
The morning light pierced the room slowlyChris lay on the bed fully dressed, shoes still onHis phone was buzzing.He reached for it without fully opening his eyes. He tapped the notification.It was from Binance.He opened his eyes.“MARKET ALERT: BTC has reached a new all-time high. Current price: $255,000.00 per coin. Your portfolio has been updated," the message readHe sat up.He read it again.His brain, still assembling itself from sleep, did the arithmetic slowly and then all at onceLast night: $200,000 per coin. Two million coins. Four hundred billion dollars.This morning: $255,000 per coin. Two million coins.He opened the app.Total Portfolio Value: $510,000,000,000.00Five hundred and ten billion dollars.He had made one hundred and ten billion dollars overnight. Without doing anything. Without moving a single coin, making a single decision, lifting a single finger.He sat on the edge of the bed in the morning light and stared at the number on the screen.He set the pho
6.The Devil Smiles
The room was quiet.Not peacefulChris sat at the small table with his phone face up in front of him, the Binance app open, and for the first time since he had walked through Virell's iron gate, he let himself breathe slowly and fully and without the weight of immediate crisis pressing on his chest. The crisis was still there. The rent ending in three weeks was still there. James's packing a dormitory bag tonight was still there.But underneath all of it, steady and enormous and growing clearer by the minute, was the number.He took out the one piece of paper he had kept from his backpack and he uncapped a pen.He wrote three things at the top.James, School. Virell.He stared at the list. Then he started from the beginningJames first.That was non-negotiable. Whatever else happened, whatever shape this revenge took or didn't take, James was not spending another day with his education in someone else's hands. Chris thought about St Augustine's Preparatory, the best junior academy i
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