After My Enrollment Spot Was Stolen, I Reported My Father's Code Name

The day I went to enroll at Riverton University.

Oliver Gilbert blocked me at the front gate. Marianne Finch, I already had Teresa take your spot. Name your price. How much do you want?

I paused a moment, then studied him with a faint, amused look. Do you know how many years you get for impersonating someone to enroll?

Oliver laughed, unbothered. "In Riverton, the Gilbert family is the sky. What, you think some down-and-out nobody like you can report me?"

I couldn't be bothered to argue with him. I turned and walked straight to the public complaints office.

I told the clerk at the desk, "Hello... my father is out in the desert Southwest working on a classified research project, mission code 257. Someone has taken my university spot. Could you help me reach him?"

The moment the young woman at the desk heard the words "mission code 257," the smile froze on her face.

She shot to her feet. "Please... please wait a moment."

She grabbed the internal line and reported it straight up the chain.

In no more than three or four minutes, the head of the complaints office came hurrying out, wiping sweat from his face.

He personally showed me into the quietest meeting room on the second floor.

"Miss Finch, please make yourself comfortable. The director will be here to see you shortly. Would you mind telling me who took your spot?"

I nodded. "Not at all. The person who took my place is called Teresa Fox. She's the cousin of my high school classmate, Oliver Gilbert."

The moment he heard the name Oliver Gilbert, his expression changed.

He hadn't imagined the one who'd stolen my spot would be the only son of the Gilberts, the richest family in Riverton.

Now he was in for it.

On one side stood the family of classified personnel, people even the top officials treated with careful respect.

On the other stood the Gilberts, who had run their businesses in Riverton for decades, their roots tangled through every corner of it.

He couldn't afford to offend either side.

If the director came and asked why he hadn't reported the other party's identity up the chain, he'd surely be branded as someone who couldn't get his job done.

Truly, when the gods fight, it's the little demons who suffer.

I cradled the warm cup of tea and sipped it slowly, watching him squirm in his seat, and gave a small smile without saying a word.

We simply stood on different ground.

He had no idea what the mission my father carried out actually meant, which was why he was so gripped by fear.

If he'd understood what lay behind it, by now he'd have already called the city police department to come and make the arrest.

After all, a chance to prove himself like this didn't come along every day.

But what a pity...

He hadn't seized it.

Half an hour later.

The door of the meeting room swung open, and the supervisor shot to his feet.

When he saw who it was Frank James, the Riverton official overseeing education he rushed forward with a hurried smile. "Sir, this is... Ms. Marianne Finch."

Frank James was in his early fifties, his hair combed without a single strand out of place.

He didn't so much as glance at the supervisor. Instead he crossed the room in long strides, straight to me.

He held out his hand first, his voice as warm as some kindly uncle from next door. "Hello, Miss Finch. I'm Frank James. Sorry to keep you waiting."

I stood and shook his hand. "Hello, Director James. Thank you for coming all this way. I'm sorry to put you to the trouble."

"No trouble at all, none. This is exactly what we should be doing." Frank turned and shot a look at the supervisor, still rooted to the spot and staring blankly, and his voice dropped hard.

"What happened here? How was Riverton University's admissions vetting handled this year? How could a lapse this serious slip through?"

The supervisor went white and hurried to explain. "Sir, it's the Gilbert family, they"

"What about the Gilbert family? Does the Gilbert name put them above the law?" Frank cut him off sharply.

"Call the president of Riverton University right now. Tell him to be here within half an hour. And have him bring Teresa Fox, Oliver Gilbert, and everyone involved in admissions with him."

"Yes, sir!" The supervisor didn't dare say another word. He grabbed his phone and hurried out to make the call.

For a moment, only Frank and I were left in the meeting room.

The air turned a little awkward.

Then Frank weighed his words, and added with a smile, "Miss Finch, rest assured. We'll get to the bottom of this, all of it."

I nodded. "Thank you, Director James. I trust the authorities will see justice done for me."

The truth was, I already knew: I didn't even need to wait for my father to respond. Mission code 257 alone meant no one in Riverton would dare drag their feet by so much as an inch.

Twenty years ago, when the Northwest research base was first built, my father went into the desert.

That place was a top-tier classified research base.

The people who came out of it, and their families, all had their status specially registered.

The moment anything happened to a family member, the entire Riverton system had to move.

That was why, the instant this happened, I'd gone straight to the public complaints office to file the report.

Oliver Gilbert wanted to use power to pin me down. Fine. Let's see whether the great Gilbert heir could really hold me down.

Word must have gotten out that I'd gone to the public complaints office.

Before the president could even call them in, Oliver Gilbert showed up on his own, dragging Teresa Fox along with him.

"So somebody swiped one lousy admission spot. Does she really have to blow it up like this? Now she's got Director James involved. This woman doesn't know a good deal when she sees one."

Oliver's irritated voice came drifting down the hallway before he'd even reached the door.

Then the door banged open.

He strolled in like he owned the place.

Teresa trailed behind him in a white dress.

Her eyes were red, as if she were the one who'd been wronged.

The second she saw me, she bit her lip and said, "Marianne, I know I owe you. But I really wanted to go to Riverton University. Please, just let me have this... Oliver said if you agree, he'll give you two million. That's enough for you to live comfortably for the rest of your life..."

"Right. Exactly." Oliver draped an arm smugly over Teresa's shoulder and cut me a sideways look.

Then he tipped his chin up and gave Frank James a polite little nod. "Well, Director, you're here too. Perfect. Do me a favor and be our witness today, so Marianne Finch can't back out on us later."

Even now, Oliver didn't take any of this seriously.

To him I was just a poor girl from the old downtown district.

Two million was supposed to knock me flat and leave me grateful.

He had no idea how big the mess was that he'd made.

Frank's face went so dark it could have dripped water.

He honestly hadn't expected the Gilbert heir to be this brazen.

Threatening the family of a decorated national servant, right in front of him, in broad daylight.

He slammed the table and shot to his feet, jabbing a finger at Oliver. "Oliver Gilbert, enrolling under a false identity is a crime. You think money can just buy that? What have you got in your head? Mush?"

Oliver laughed.

He leaned against the door frame, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it.

He blew a slow smoke ring. "Director, you shouldn't put it that way. It's one university spot, that's all. There's nothing in this world money can't buy. It's only ever a matter of settling on a price. Tell you what... I'll do you the courtesy today and double it for her. Four million. Four million ought to do it, don't you think?"

"You!"

Oliver had left Frank so furious his hand was shaking. He pointed at the doorway and for a long moment couldn't get out a single word.

I sat on the sofa with my teacup, watching Oliver stand there like he owned the world, and I couldn't help laughing out loud.

"Four million?" I set the cup down and dabbed at the corner of my mouth with a tissue.

"Oliver, do you honestly think everything under the sun has a price tag on it, and that the money in your pocket lets you do whatever you want?"

Oliver flicked the ash off his cigarette, his whole face set in that look of someone gazing down from on high. "What else? Marianne, quit acting so high and mighty. Have you ever seen four million in cash stacked up in front of you, you broke little nobody? Why can't you just take the money and go retire back in the sticks? Why do you have to make it this ugly?"

Right on cue, Teresa let a few tears fall and tugged at Oliver's sleeve.

Her voice went soft and coaxing. "Oliver, don't say any more. Marianne probably didn't mean to blow it up like this. If it really comes to that... I'll just give the spot back to her. Worst case, I'll redo a year..."

"Give it back?" Oliver dipped his head and patted her hand, his tone so doting you could wring it out.

"I went to all that trouble getting you in. Why should you give up anything? Don't worry, leave this to me. She's not going to turn the sky over."

Then he turned to fix his eyes on me, his expression dark. "Marianne, I'll say it one last time. Four million. Take the money, go retire in the countryside, and we're square from here on out. But if you keep dragging this out... then don't blame me for the methods I use on you."

"Ha. Young Mr. Gilbert, hearing you talk, I'd say you're not taking me seriously at all." Frank was so angry he'd swung back around to laughing.

At this point he truly had no desire to keep talking to this brain-dead rich kid.

He was already thinking of having the relevant department for the district come through the proper channels and haul him in.

Just then, the door of the reception room was pushed open again.

The president of Riverton University came hurrying in, the head of admissions in tow, both of them drenched in sweat.

Seeing Oliver standing there, he even nodded a reflexive greeting. "Young Mr. Gilbert, you're here too."

Oliver gave a snort, not sparing the president a second glance. "President Chavez, your admissions team did good work this time. I'll have my father donate a building to your library later."

President Chavez's face reflexively broke into a smile, and he was just about to say thank you.

Then Frank's furious shout yanked him back to reality, and he jumped.

"Oliver! Shut your mouth! President Chavez, bring out your admissions paperwork right now. In front of everyone here, you're going to lay this whole thing out clearly!"

President Chavez went pale and quickly handed over the folder in his hands.

The head of admissions stood beside him, stammering out an explanation. "Director James, at the time Young Mr. Gilbert said that Miss Finch had voluntarily given up her enrollment, so... so we... we let Miss Teresa Fox take her place... We're sorry, Director James... We didn't verify it properly, it was our mistake, our oversight... please forgive us..."

"Oversight?" I lifted an eyebrow.

"The acceptance letter is in my hands. My ID and household registration are with me too. You didn't confirm a single thing. On Oliver's word alone you let Teresa take my place, and now you think one word, 'oversight,' settles it?"

Hearing that, Oliver knit his brows, impatient. "Enough, Marianne! Don't throw a good offer back in my face. You just want money, right? I'll add another million. Five million! Sign a statement giving up the spot and this is over. Stop dragging it out!" Then his gaze slid over to Frank, who was holding his fury in.

"Director James, I hear your son's looking to buy a place for his wedding? Here's an idea. That riverside penthouse our family developed, I'll sell it to you at half price. Call it a favor from me. What do you say you take it and back off?"

The moment the words were out, Frank's face went black as the bottom of a pot.

He was so angry he couldn't get a word out, and nearly passed out on the spot.

But Oliver thought he'd hit the nail on the head.

He arched an eyebrow at me, smug, as if to say, "See? I've even bought off the official. What kind of waves do you think you can make? Better quit while you're ahead."

Watching that brain-dead act of his.

I really couldn't hold it in anymore, and it came out of me right there.

This Oliver had probably been spoiled stupid by the Gilbert family.

Really believed money moved mountains, that everyone had to revolve around him?

And when he talked, did he give no thought at all to where he was?

Was this the kind of thing you could just say out loud in front of everyone?

"Oliver, do you know who my father is?" I leaned back against the sofa and spoke slowly.

Oliver blanked for a second, then let out a scornful laugh. "Your dad's just some broke wage worker, isn't he? What, you want to trot your dad out to lean on me? Play the whose-father's-bigger game? Would you stop being ridiculous?"