PART 2 — THEY CHOSE THE WRONG FAMILY
The lawsuits arrived on the same morning.
Three thick envelopes.
Three different law firms.
Three different fathers accusing me of everything except the one thing their sons had actually done.
They claimed I had threatened their children.
They claimed I had intimidated the school.
One attorney even suggested that Cameron’s injuries were exaggerated to create sympathy.
I read every page without saying a word.
Then I reached the final paragraph of the last complaint.
It demanded that I pay damages for “emotional distress” caused to the boys.
I actually laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because I finally understood how confident these men were.
They believed money could erase anything.
They were about to learn that evidence doesn’t care how expensive your lawyer is.
I called my attorney, Elena Brooks.
“I want everything preserved,” I told her.
“Medical records. School communications. Security footage. Phone records. Everything.”
She paused.
“Marshall, there is something you should know.”
“What?”
“The school says the hallway cameras weren’t working that day.”
I stared at the wall.
“Were they working the day before?”
“Yes.”
“The day after?”
“Yes.”
I smiled without humor.
“Then they weren’t broken.”
There was a long silence.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking someone turned them off.”
That afternoon, Elena sent a private investigator to speak with several students.
One student finally agreed to talk.
He was terrified.
He told us that the five seniors had been planning the attack for weeks.
They had created a private group chat.
They had called it a “club.”
And Cameron wasn’t their first target.
There were at least seven other students.
Some had transferred schools.
Some had simply stopped attending.
One had been hospitalized the previous year.
Then the student gave us something even more important.
A video.
Someone had secretly recorded part of the attack.
It wasn’t the entire incident, but it showed enough.
Five boys surrounding Cameron.
One holding his arms.
Another laughing.
Another holding the heated belt buckle.
And in the background…
a voice.
The principal’s voice.
“Make sure nobody sees you.”
I watched the recording twice.
Then a third time.
Elena looked at me.
“That’s enough to change everything.”
“No,” I said.
“It’s enough to start.”
The next morning, I requested an emergency meeting with the school district.
The principal arrived with two attorneys.
The five boys’ fathers arrived with four more.
They sat across from me like I was the defendant.
One of them leaned forward.
“You need to understand who you’re dealing with.”
I looked at him.
“I do.”
He smiled.
“My family has supported this school for twenty years.”
“And my son has a third-degree burn on his back.”
His smile disappeared.
Another father interrupted.
“This was teenage stupidity.”
I opened a folder.
“No.”
I slid photographs across the table.
“Teenage stupidity doesn’t involve planning an attack, disabling cameras, restraining another student, heating metal, and branding him.”
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