Afterwards I swung by Frank’s place to remind him we still had to execute the revenge. The sermon about forgiveness did not change my mind. I was still set on action. Loving Lucy didn’t make me less dangerous; if anything, it made me more determined. As the elders say, if you lie on the floor and beg people to walk over you, some will still say you’re not lying flat enough.
At 7:00 p.m. under the mango tree we—THE MEGA BRAINS—held our meeting. I sat in the leader’s chair while the others stood. We agreed to strike on Monday. If everything went well, JK would at least earn a week’s suspension. We broke, I walked them partway home, and then came back to polish the plan in my head.
Monday came. I was at the gate before it opened—a senior on duty, giving me the perfect view of the playground. EK and MA arrived; Frank showed up as our lookout. Everything had to be surgical.
When class started our target walked in. MA struck first: he made small talk and led her out of the room. EK moved in, grabbed her bag, rifled through it and pulled out her purse. He handed it to me like we were passing a baton. Frank kept watch at the gate.
Half the job was done. The hard part was still ahead: slipping that purse into JK’s bag before the girl discovered it.
IK (it’s JK, not IK—just keeping naming consistent) showed up late—unusual for him—and my chest started to tighten. The teacher began the lesson, and I sat with the purse hidden under my desk. Every minute felt like a drumbeat. What if she noticed? What if she screamed? What if a search started and my palms gave me away?
I kept stealing glances at her. Her face suddenly changed; the colour dropped out of it like someone had punched the air from her lungs. She started to cry. My mouth went dry. The teacher paused and asked what was wrong.
“She said her money’s been stolen,” the girl managed through tears.
The classroom froze.
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