How Dare You Steal My Father’s Legacy

The Papers

Everything went black, and a warm trickle ran down my forehead.

Maris screamed, not because of me, but because she feared my blood would stain the carpet. "Grayson, stop. This could turn deadly."

Hands grabbed for Grayson to pull him back.

"Forget it," another voice said. "Not worth it over some trash like him."

"Come on, we still have a celebration. Don't ruin it."

At last, Grayson backed off and, with a look of disgust, wiped his hands on a napkin. "Throw him out," he ordered.

They hauled me from the private room like a bag of trash and dumped me on the cold hallway floor.

Maris followed, her voice completely flat. "Lucen, you made your choice. Grayson's right. We're not from the same world. Let's break up."

I braced myself against the wall and staggered to my feet. Blood blurred my sight; her face warped in the haze.

"Maris, your father is a scholar. You should know that a researcher's work and reputation are worth more than a life. You stole half of my father's life!" I shouted.

Maris took a step back and her eyes slid away.

"It was an accident. Who knew your father would be so fragile? Grayson said if you keep quiet, he'll pay five hundred thousand a year in support until your father dies.

"He'll also get you a decent job after graduation. Isn't that better than struggling on your own?"

I shook with rage and tore the words from my throat. "Maris, my father once praised you as smart, kind, and full of spark. If you have any decency left, expose Grayson!"

From inside the room, Grayson's voice came, thick with mockery. "Maris, why waste your breath on that idiot? He probably doesn't even know his father's research papers—the ones we tossed—are being sold online as junk. Someone said they want to buy them as toilet paper, just to wipe off a bit of a genius' bad luck."

My chest felt like it was splitting open.

Those papers were my father's life—every line, every mark written through countless sleepless nights, carved from his very soul.

Grayson came out grinning and shoved his phone in my face.

On the screen was a resale site—photos of my father's familiar manuscripts lined up under the title, 'Down-and-out Professor's Papers—Just for Laughs'.

The comments below were vile.

'Didn't this old guy have a stroke? Can he even still write?'

"Haha, I heard Grayson the genius took his research. Serves him right.'

'I'll pay ten bucks for it. My dog could use some new bedding. Maybe it'll turn him into a genius too.'

I lunged for the phone, and Grayson kicked me in the chest.

"See?" He sneered. "Everyone knows I'm a genius. Your dad was just a stepping stone."

He turned to Maris with a smirk. "Maris, didn't you always say this kid looked decent? Let's make it more entertaining today. Watch how low he'll sink for his father."

Grayson gave the other rich kids a look. "Tie him up. Take him to the hospital. Make him confess, in front of his father, that his dad is a fraud and stole all his work. The son should know best what his father really is."

My eyes burned, and I pleaded with Maris. "Maris, please. Don't do this."

My voice was raw with despair.

Maris didn't flinch; she simply turned away and avoided my gaze. They hauled me roughly into a car.