CHAPTER 9

Ethan stepped out of the bank, feeling the weight of his worn bag filled with cash.

Just as he climbed onto his carbon-fiber scooter, his phone rang.

Glancing at the screen, he saw it was his roommate.

“Hey, Ethan, where are you?” his roommate asked.

“Class started, and the professor’s already taken attendance. You know how he gets.”

Ethan’s heart dropped as he checked the time.

He’d completely forgotten his lecture in the commotion at the bank.

“I’m on my way. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he replied, kicking his scooter into gear and racing toward the college.

He arrived at the classroom, slightly out of breath, his bag slung over his shoulder.

As he stepped in, every head in the room turned to him.

At the front of the room, Professor Whitmore, a man with a perpetual scowl and sharp eyes, paused his lecture, his lips curling into a condescending smile.

“Well, well,” Professor Whitmore sneered, eyeing Ethan.

“Look who decided to join us. The class’s star latecomer! We’re s