Chapter 4: The First Ripple

Alex woke to his alarm at 6:30 AM, but he'd been lying awake for the better part of an hour, staring at the ceiling and replaying every keystroke from the night before. The disposal phone was already in three separate dumpsters across town, the keycard returned to Mr. Henderson's desk during his early morning cleaning routine, and every trace of his digital surgery erased from existence.

Now came the hardest part: acting normal.

His morning classes passed in a blur of forced normalcy. Alex took notes, participated in discussions, and maintained the same mild-mannered demeanor that had made him invisible for two years. But underneath the surface, his nerves thrummed with anticipation. Every time his phone buzzed, his pulse spiked with the possibility that it might be news of Jay's discovery.

It wasn't until his lunch break that Lucy finally called, her voice tight with worry.

"Alex, Sara's having a panic attack about her English class today. She's terrified of seeing Jay, but she can't afford to miss any more sessions." Lucy's words came in a rush, the way they did when she was trying to hold everything together. "I told her we'd walk her to class, but she's still shaking. God, I hate that he has this power over her."

Alex gripped his phone tighter, forcing his voice to remain steady. "Of course we'll be there. What time?"

"Two-thirty. Room 218 in Humanities. Alex..." Lucy paused, and he could hear the weight of everything unsaid in that silence. "I keep thinking there has to be something more we can do. The police said Jay's family hired some expensive lawyer, and now they're claiming Sara's injuries were from a fall. It's like watching the system protect him while she suffers."

"The system doesn't always work the way it should," Alex said carefully. "But sometimes... sometimes things have a way of working out anyway."

After hanging up, Alex found he couldn't concentrate on his afternoon Statistics class. He kept checking his watch, counting down the minutes until 2:30, when the first ripple of his digital stone would finally reach the surface.

---

Alex arrived at the Humanities building fifteen minutes early, positioning himself near the entrance where he could watch for Sara and Lucy while keeping an eye on the second-floor windows. Room 218 was directly above him, and if his calculations were correct, Jay was about to have a very public meltdown.

Lucy appeared first, her arm linked protectively with Sara's. Even from a distance, Alex could see the careful way Sara moved, as if her body was still recovering from Jay's lesson in knowing her place. The bruises on her face had faded to yellow-green, but the damage to her confidence was still written in every careful step.

"Hey," Alex said softly as they approached. "How are you holding up?"

Sara managed a weak smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I just want to get through this class without any drama. Maybe if I sit in the back, he won't even notice me."

Alex felt a surge of anger at how small she'd made herself, how Jay's violence had reduced this bright, confident woman to someone who hoped to be overlooked. But he kept his expression neutral, offering what he hoped sounded like genuine reassurance.

"You belong in that classroom just as much as anyone else," he said. "Don't let him take that away from you."

They climbed the stairs together, Sara's grip white-knuckled on the banister. The hallway outside Room 218 was filled with students chatting and checking their phones before class, the normal pre-lecture buzz of academic life. Alex spotted a few familiar faces from his own English class the previous semester, including Professor Martinez, a no-nonsense woman in her fifties who had a reputation for running a tight classroom.

At exactly 2:30, Professor Martinez opened the door and students began filing in. Alex hung back with Lucy, both of them watching Sara disappear into the classroom with the expression of someone walking to her execution.

"I should go," Alex said. "My next class starts at three. Text me if—"

He was interrupted by raised voices from inside Room 218. Through the partially open door, Alex could see Jay near the front of the classroom, his designer clothes and confident posture making him instantly recognizable even from behind. But something was wrong with the picture. Instead of his usual composed arrogance, Jay's voice carried a sharp edge of frustration.

"There has to be some mistake," Jay was saying, his accent more pronounced when he was agitated. "I registered for this class at the beginning of the semester. I've been attending for six weeks."

Professor Martinez's response was cool and professional. "Mr. Sharma, I've checked the roster three times. Your name is not on my class list, and according to the registrar's system, you are not currently enrolled in English Composition 201."

"That's impossible." Jay's voice was rising now, drawing stares from other students. "I have assignments, I've taken quizzes. You know who I am."

"I'm aware of your previous attendance," Professor Martinez replied with the patience of someone who'd dealt with registration issues before. "But the official roster is what determines enrollment, and administrative policies are clear on this matter. I cannot allow non-enrolled students to remain in class."

Alex felt his pulse quicken. It was happening exactly as he'd planned, but seeing it unfold in real time was intoxicating in a way he hadn't expected. Jay Sharma, the man who'd dismissed their lives as recreational activities, was being publicly ejected from a classroom like any other student who'd failed to properly register.

"This is ridiculous," Jay snapped, his composure finally cracking. "Do you know who my father is? Do you have any idea what kind of donations my family makes to this university?"

The classroom had gone completely silent now, students turning in their seats to watch the drama unfold. Alex caught a glimpse of Sara near the back, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and something that might have been satisfaction.

Professor Martinez's voice turned icy. "Mr. Sharma, your family's financial contributions to the university are irrelevant to enrollment procedures. I'm going to ask you to leave my classroom immediately, or I'll be forced to call campus security."

"Fine," Jay snarled, gathering his expensive leather bag with sharp, angry movements. "But this isn't over. I'm going straight to the registrar's office to file a complaint about this... this system error. Heads are going to roll when my father hears about this incompetence."

He stormed toward the door, his face flushed with rage and humiliation. As he passed the doorway where Alex and Lucy stood, his eyes swept over them without recognition—they were still invisible to him, still beneath his notice even in his moment of defeat.

The classroom door slammed shut behind him, and Alex could hear Professor Martinez's voice resume its normal tone as she began the day's lesson. But Alex wasn't listening. His attention was fixed on Jay's retreating figure as the other man strode down the hallway with the determined gait of someone about to make very important phone calls.

"What just happened?" Lucy whispered, her eyes wide with confusion and something that might have been hope.

"I'm not sure," Alex lied smoothly. "Some kind of registration mix-up, it sounds like. These things happen sometimes with the computer system."

Lucy's phone buzzed with a text from Sara: OMG you guys!!! Jay got kicked out of class!!! Prof said he's not even enrolled!!! I can't believe it!!!

Alex read the message over Lucy's shoulder and felt a warm surge of satisfaction at Sara's obvious relief. For the first time in weeks, her texts included multiple exclamation points and genuine excitement. The fear was still there, but it was mixed with something else now—the dawning realization that Jay Sharma might not be as untouchable as he'd seemed.

"This is incredible," Lucy breathed, her fingers flying over her phone as she typed back to Sara. "I mean, I know it's probably just a computer glitch, but seeing him get humiliated like that... God, does that make me a terrible person?"

"It makes you human," Alex said. "He's put Sara through hell. He deserves whatever karma sends his way."

They stood in the hallway for another few minutes, basking in the afterglow of Jay's public defeat. Other students filtered past them, some still talking about the scene they'd witnessed, and Alex caught fragments of conversation that made his chest swell with pride.

"...can you believe how entitled that guy was..."

"...acting like his daddy's money should get him special treatment..."

"...about time someone put him in his place..."

Eventually, Lucy headed to her own class, leaving Alex alone in the corridor. He should have gone to Statistics, should have maintained his normal routine, but he found himself drawn toward the administrative building instead. If Jay was heading to the registrar's office to file a complaint, Alex wanted to be nearby when the second shoe dropped.

The walk across campus took eight minutes, and Alex used every second to compose his expression into appropriate concern and helpfulness. By the time he reached the student services office, he looked exactly like what he was supposed to be—a dedicated student employee arriving for his afternoon shift.

Mrs. Patterson looked up from her desk with obvious relief. "Alex, thank goodness. We're about to have a very unhappy student on our hands. Some international student is claiming the system dropped all his classes, and he's demanding to speak with someone in authority."

Alex hung up his jacket and settled at his workstation, logging into the Aegis system with practiced efficiency. "What kind of system error are we talking about?"

"That's just it—I can't find any record of an error. According to the logs, all the changes to his account were processed through proper channels. But he's insisting it's impossible, that he never made those modifications." Mrs. Patterson lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Between you and me, I think we're dealing with someone who's used to getting his way and doesn't handle bureaucracy well."

Alex nodded sympathetically while his fingers navigated the familiar interface. "Want me to pull up his account? Maybe I can spot something you missed."

"Would you? His name is Jaydeep Sharma, student ID 2019-INT-4478."

Alex's hands moved with practiced precision, calling up Jay's student record while maintaining an expression of professional concern. The account told the story exactly as he'd written it—complete withdrawal from all courses, multiple administrative fees assessed, account hold preventing re-enrollment pending payment.

"Wow," Alex said, injecting just the right note of surprise into his voice. "He really is completely unenrolled. And look at these fees... that's going to be expensive to resolve."

Mrs. Patterson peered over his shoulder at the screen. "How does something like this even happen? I've never seen a case where someone accidentally withdrew from every single class."

"Phone registration, maybe?" Alex suggested. "You know how confusing that old system can be. Someone could have hit the wrong buttons if they weren't familiar with the menus."

"I suppose that's possible," Mrs. Patterson mused. "Though you'd think someone would notice dropping all their classes before confirming the changes."

Alex was about to respond when the office door burst open with enough force to rattle the glass panels. Jay Sharma stood in the doorway, his face flushed with anger and his expensive clothes slightly rumpled from what had clearly been a very frustrating hour.

"I need to speak with whoever is in charge of your computer system," Jay announced, his voice carrying the imperious tone of someone accustomed to immediate attention. "Your incompetent software has destroyed my academic career, and I demand immediate resolution."

Mrs. Patterson straightened in her chair, switching into her professional crisis-management mode. "I'm Martha Patterson, the office manager. How can I help you today?"

Jay strode to her desk, pulling out his phone and waving it like evidence in a court case. "This morning I discovered that your system has somehow deleted every single one of my classes. Not only that, but it's charged me thousands of dollars in fees I never authorized. This is clearly a malicious attack on my academic standing, and I want it fixed immediately."

Alex kept his expression neutral while internally marveling at Jay's transformation. Gone was the smooth confidence that had made him so intimidating at Lucy's apartment. In its place was raw panic barely contained beneath a veneer of entitled rage. Jay was finally discovering what it felt like to be powerless in the face of institutional indifference.

"I understand your frustration," Mrs. Patterson said calmly. "Let me have my assistant pull up your account so we can see exactly what's happened."

She gestured toward Alex, who nodded helpfully and began typing. "Could you confirm your student ID number for me?"

Jay rattled off the digits, and Alex made a show of entering them carefully. "Okay, I see your account here. You're right that there have been significant changes to your enrollment status. According to the system logs, all modifications were processed through our phone registration system yesterday evening at 11:47 PM."

"That's impossible," Jay snapped. "I was nowhere near a phone at that time. I was having dinner with important business associates."

Alex nodded sympathetically while clicking through screens with practiced efficiency. "Phone registration can be accessed from any phone, not just campus lines. Did you perhaps try to check your schedule or make a small change and accidentally trigger the withdrawal process?"

"I don't make accidents," Jay said coldly. "And I certainly don't withdraw from classes without knowing it. This is clearly a system malfunction, and I expect it to be corrected immediately."

Mrs. Patterson leaned forward, her voice taking on the patient tone she used for difficult situations. "Mr. Sharma, I understand this is frustrating, but the logs show that proper authentication was used for all these changes. The system required your student ID and PIN number, which suggests—"

"Are you accusing me of lying?" Jay's voice rose dangerously, and Alex saw several other staff members glance over with interest. "Do you have any idea who you're dealing with? My father's company has donated more money to this university than you'll see in your entire career."

The office went quiet, and Alex felt a familiar cold satisfaction watching Jay's mask slip completely. This was the real man behind the designer clothes and practiced charm—someone who believed his family's money made him untouchable, who couldn't comprehend a world where his threats carried no weight.

Mrs. Patterson's expression hardened almost imperceptibly. "Mr. Sharma, your family's generosity to the university is appreciated, but it doesn't change our administrative procedures. If you believe there's been an error, we can certainly investigate, but that process will take time."

"How much time?" Jay demanded.

"For a complete system audit? At least two weeks, possibly longer if we need to involve IT security."

"Two weeks?" Jay's voice cracked slightly. "I can't wait two weeks. My visa status depends on maintaining full-time enrollment. If I'm not enrolled by Friday, immigration services will begin revocation proceedings."

Alex had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. Jay had just confirmed everything Alex had hoped for—the man finally understood the consequences of his position, finally grasped how precarious his entire life in America really was.

"I understand the urgency," Mrs. Patterson said, "but system integrity is our primary concern. We can't simply override the records without proper investigation."

Jay stared at her for a long moment, and Alex could practically see the gears turning in his head as he realized that money and threats weren't going to solve this problem. For perhaps the first time in his privileged life, Jay Sharma was facing a bureaucracy that didn't care about his connections.

"Fine," Jay said finally, his voice tight with barely controlled panic. "Start your investigation. But I'm also contacting my father's lawyers. If this isn't resolved quickly, there will be consequences."

He turned and stalked out of the office, leaving behind a silence that felt charged with electricity. Alex returned his attention to his computer screen, but internally he was savoring every second of Jay's desperation.

His phone buzzed with a text from Lucy: Sara says Jay looked like he was about to cry when he left the registrar's office. Whatever's happening to him, it's beautiful. Karma is real!

Alex typed back: Sometimes the universe has a way of balancing things out.

As he settled into his afternoon routine of helping students with routine problems, Alex felt a deep sense of satisfaction settling over him. The first ripple had reached the surface, and Jay Sharma was finally learning that some storms couldn't be weathered with money and arrogance.

The hunt had indeed begun, but Jay had no idea he was already the prey.