Prologue

I think that everyone reaches a moment in their lives when they ask themselves 'is this right?' This moral question is reserved for those with a conscience. The majority of the people that walk the streets of this town don't have this faculty called a conscience. I fear that at this moment, I am part of the majority that don't have a conscience.

Laurie Bancroft narrowed her green eyes at me. She looked over her shoulder with the pretense that she doesn't know I am talking to her. Some people never change. Over seven years later and she still behaves like this is high school. In my defense, I apologized for the last rough encounter we had.

"I don't think there are that many Bancrofts running around in this town. You guys are as rare as rain in the Sahara." She made a face. I don't know what this face means. I have to say something to end the awkward silence. "How have you been?"

"Fine. Thank you." The last part of her response was definitely thought about. 

Laurie Bancroft thinks that adding polite niceties to her sentences makes her a nice person. Honestly, it just makes her polite but she has a way of saying the meanest things in the nicest ways. Her angelic face is the reason she gets away with it.

"I was just grabbing some groceries when I saw you and I thought I should say hello." Come to think of it, why is Laurie Bancroft at a grocery store? Doesn't her family have people for that? She belongs in one of those high end fashion boutiques that have things that cost more than all I have accumulated in ownership all my life.

The Bancrofts are the wealthiest family in this town and probably the country but no one really knows. We just know they are wealthy. There is no door their name can't open. They are like the royal family of this town. 

"Thanks." She looked towards a man with a hoodie on. He beckoned her over. She clenched her jaw tightly. "Excuse me."

I have known Laurie since the first day of high school when she laughed at me after I fell on my face. I can never forget that mean wicked laughter. It still echoes in my mind. Seven years later and I haven't forgotten. Something about her is off. I debated between following the rich girl or doing what I came here to do.

My journalistic instincts are telling me to follow her. 

The man who called her over has his hand wrapped around her arm. I stayed behind a wall, quickly adjusting my camera. I angled my phone and took several pictures before I filmed the rest. He is shouting at her. Never have I seen her in a state where she is not fighting back. She looks subdued and probably scared.

He opened the car door and shoved her in. In seconds the car drove off and I ended the recording.

"Strange..." I mattered to myself and replayed the video again.

This could be big. I think it could be. Where there is smoke, there is fire, right?

With a big smile on my face, I hurried away.

It is impossible to catch the Bancrofts in a scandal.