Chapter 2The Charity Trap

"Go to hell!"

"Think you're special just because you have money?"

"People like you deserve to rot!"

On the campus forum, my photo was photoshopped into a black-and-white funeral portrait with the words "Got What She Deserved" plastered over it.

My name was trending on Twitter, followed by the hashtag #FakePhilanthropist.

What chilled me even more was seeing avatars I recognized in the comments section.

The sophomore whose financial aid application I stayed up all night helping revise. The senior I used my connections to get an internship for.

Now, they were all kicking me while I was down, attacking me with the most vicious words imaginable.

I watched Lily fake-wiping tears for the camera.

I looked at the mob reveling in the chat, and at Brandon's ungrateful comment.

In that moment, my heart turned to ice.

I turned to leave.

The jeers of the wealthy students surrounded me:

"I told you not to meddle."

"See? This is what happens to do-gooders."

"Thought she was a savior, but nobody even cares."

I finally understood. Feeding kindness to dogs is the stupidest thing you can do in this world.

You think this meal is disgusting?

Fine.

Then from now on, nobody eats.

Back in my dorm, my phone wouldn't stop buzzing. Toxic DMs kept popping up on the screen:

"You think money lets you do whatever you want?"

"Why haven't you offed yourself yet?"

...

I turned my phone off. The world finally went quiet.

But the insults kept echoing in my brain.

Then, a knock on the door.

"Quinn, it's Mr. Davis from the Dean's Office."

"The administration requires you to come to the admin building immediately to explain today's situation. You've brought negative publicity to the university!"

I stayed silent.

Getting no response, Mr. Davis's tone hardened:

"Quinn Sterling, if you continue to hide, the school will take necessary measures."

I laughed out loud, coldly.

They aren't going after the rioters, but they're coming for me?

Do they really think I'm a pushover?

After his footsteps faded, I turned my phone back on and made a call.

"It's me."

My voice was ice.

"Investigate a few people. Lily, Brandon, and the ones leading the charge in the livestream. I want to know everything about them."

The voice on the other end responded quickly:

"Understood. How deep?"

"As deep as it goes."

I said.

"Especially Brandon."

I hung up and opened my laptop.

Threads attacking me had already sprung up on the forum, the titles getting nastier by the minute:

Exposing the Sterling Family's Dark Secrets

The Dirty Deals Behind the Charity Counter

The True Face of a Hypocrite

The funniest part was that beneath these posts, many students I had previously helped were jumping on the bandwagon to spread rumors.

The guy whose medical bills I paid was now swearing I harassed him.

The girl I helped find a job was claiming I stole her wages.

Human hearts, it turns out, can be this poisonous.

Early the next morning.

I was woken up by violent banging on my door.

"Quinn Sterling, get out here! We want justice for all low-income students!"

Through the peephole, I saw Lily leading a group of twenty people, all of them livestreaming.

"See everyone? She's hiding in there like a turtle!"