Chapter 11 - Trent Comes BackTrent appeared outside Leo’s apartment at 6:20 the next morning.
Leo opened the door and stared at him.
Campus restrictions prohibited Trent from contacting him.
Trent knew that.
“Leave.”
“I need five minutes.”
“No.”
“They’re going to blame me for everything.”
“You broke my crutch.”
“I know.”
“You knocked me down.”
“I know.”
“You destroyed the network node.”
“I know!”
Leo stared.
Trent lowered his voice.
“I know.”
For once there was no audience.
No teammates.
No students.
No father.
Trent looked smaller.
Not physically.
But somehow less constructed.
Leo kept the chain on the door.
“Why are you here?”
Trent removed a folded paper from his jacket.
“I copied something before my phone got wiped.”
Leo hesitated.
“What?”
“The messages.”
He held up the paper.
“I took screenshots.”
“Why?”
Trent laughed bitterly.
“Because my dad taught me never to trust anyone.”
There was an irony neither acknowledged.
Leo took the papers.
Screenshots.
Coach Voss.
Instructions.
The fiber-box photograph.
And another message.
From Everett Holloway.
Trent’s father.
Do what Roland says. This is bigger than football.
Leo read it twice.
“You knew your father was involved.”
“I knew he wanted me to listen to Coach.”
“That is involvement.”
“I didn’t know about the applications.”
Leo looked at him.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I thought Mercer—that’s you—I thought you were sabotaging athletes.”
“You smashed equipment because someone told you I was hacking applications?”
“I was angry.”
“That isn’t an explanation.”
“I know.”
Trent stared at the floor.
For years, he had been able to escape consequences by saying he was angry, stressed, under pressure or joking.
Now those words sounded pathetic even to him.
“I’m sorry.”
Leo’s expression did not change.
Trent looked up.
“I know that doesn’t fix anything.”
“No.”
“I know you don’t owe me forgiveness.”
“No.”
“I just…”
He struggled.
“I need you to know I didn’t know what that box did.”
Leo leaned on the doorframe.
“That makes the decision dumber, Trent. Not better.”
Trent flinched.
“Yeah.”
“Why did your father want certain Apex candidates?”
“I don’t know everything.”
“Tell me what you know.”
Trent hesitated.
Then the story came out.
Everett’s company was deeply in debt.
The merger with Apex wasn’t simply expansion.
It was survival.
Several Holloway developments had exceeded budget.
Banks were tightening credit.
If Apex acquired the infrastructure division, Everett could hide losses inside the larger transaction.
But Apex’s internal review committee remained skeptical.
Everett wanted loyal Westbridge graduates inside Apex’s leadership pipeline.
Not immediate decision-makers.
Future influence.
Young employees who owed their careers to him.
“It sounds insane,” Trent said.
“It sounds slow.”
“What?”
“Not insane. Slow. He wasn’t planning for next month. He was planning for ten years.”
Trent nodded.
“That’s how Dad thinks.”
“Why athletes?”
“Loyalty.”
Leo understood.
Everett had spent years building relationships through football.
Scholarships.
Coaches.
Boosters.
Players.
Students who believed they owed him.
The Apex recruitment process was simply another pipeline.
Trent pulled another paper from his pocket.
“This is worse.”
Leo unfolded it.
A list of universities.
Westbridge was not the only one.
Seven schools.
Different companies.
Different recruiting programs.
Similar notes.
Leo stared at him.
“Where did you get this?”
“My father’s office.”
“You stole it?”
“I photographed it last night.”
Leo looked at Trent carefully.
“Why?”
Trent’s face twisted.
“Because he knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That Coach wanted me to go after you.”
Leo said nothing.
Trent continued.
“My dad knew there would be a confrontation. He didn’t know I’d use your crutch.”
He swallowed.
“But he knew I was being sent to scare you.”
For the first time, anger broke through Leo’s control.
“Your father sent you to intimidate a disabled student because I might detect his fraud.”
Trent closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
Leo wanted to slam the door.
Instead he asked:
“Why tell me?”
Trent laughed once.
“Because yesterday I thought my father was trying to protect me.”
His eyes turned hard.
“Then I heard him tell his lawyer that if someone had to take the fall, I was ‘already the obvious liability.’”
Leo understood.
Everett was preparing to sacrifice his own son.
Trent handed him a flash drive.
“Everything I copied is on there.”
Leo did not take it immediately.
“If this is malware—”
“It isn’t.”
“You don’t have a great credibility score today.”
“That’s fair.”
Leo finally accepted it.
Then footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Trent turned.
Two campus security officers were approaching.
“You called them?”
Leo nodded.
“When?”
“When you said you needed five minutes.”
Trent almost smiled.
“Of course you did.”
Security escorted him away for violating the no-contact order.
Before leaving, Trent looked back.
“Leo.”
“What?”
“I really am sorry.”
Leo didn’t answer.
Forgiveness could wait.
Evidence couldn’t.
He closed the door.
Then looked at the flash drive.
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Because if Trent’s list was genuine, Westbridge was only one piece of something much larger.
And fifty failed applications might be the first visible crack in a system that had been quietly manipulating young people’s careers for years.
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