Playing fair hadn't worked. Following the rules had only given their opponents time to bury the truth. How long would it take? Maybe a few hours. I've been mapping the network for months, just for fun, you know?
A ghost of his old smile flickered. I never thought I'd actually need to use it. Thunder rumbled in the distance as Jada wrestled with the decision. Breaking the law, even for the right reasons, went against everything she believed in. But watching Caleb's determined expression, she remembered him kneeling in that milk puddle, remembered the helpless fury as they led him away in handcuffs.
Do it, she said finally. But be careful. If you think anyone's tracking you, I know how to cover my tracks. He was already typing, screens of code reflecting in his glasses. Nobody will even know we were there.
The storm drew closer as Caleb worked, thunder growing louder. Jada brought him water and snacks, watching in amazement as her little brother transformed. Gone was the nervous kid who stuttered under pressure. In his place sat a focused technician, muttering about encryption keys and access protocols. "I'm in," he announced after 2 hours.
"But, there's something weird. A hidden directory with restricted permissions. What's in it?" "Incident reports. Hundreds of them, going back years."
His voice grew excited. "Look at this. Complaints against the Whitmores. All marked sealed by administrative action." Jada leaned closer.
The screen showed page after page of PDF files, each labeled with dates and case numbers. As Caleb opened them, a pattern emerged. Students reporting harassment by Trip and his cousins. Witnesses to bullying incidents. Even a few teacher complaints.
All buried in digital obscurity. "They've been covering for them for years," Jada breathed. "Download everything." Lightning flashed outside as Caleb copied the files. Each crack of thunder made them jump, but he kept working.
The printer hummed steadily, spitting out page after damning page. Mrs. Price returned as they sorted the documents into manila folders. She examined a few pages, her expression grim. "This shows a clear pattern of institutional protection. The school board would have had to actively suppress these complaints.
And the mayor's signature is on half the sealing orders, Jada noted. It's not just about Trip anymore. The whole system is corrupt. Caleb finished labeling the last folder. What do we do with all this?