Page 51 of My Family

The food arrives in waves, carried by staff. A salad with greens I can't identify, something with goat cheese and walnuts and a delicious dressing. Then steak, real steak, thick and pink in the center, with a crust that crackles when the knife goes through. Roasted potatoes, asparagus glistening with butter, bread that's still warm from the oven.

Harry's father appears from the kitchen end of the room, a glass of red wine in one hand, his linen shirt now swapped for a faded college sweatshirt that says GEORGETOWN across the chest. The casualness of it is strange. He pulls out a chair at the head of the table, drops into it almost as if he's at a barbecue, and grins at us.

"Eat," he says. "You look like you've been living on cafeteria food for three years." He pauses. "Oh, wait."

Jack snorts into his napkin. Liam laughs, and I can't help smiling.

"Call me Richard," he says, cutting his steak. "Or Rich. Or whatever. Mr. Westfield is what the lawyers call me, and I don't need that energy at dinner." He looks at each of us in turn, genuinely curious, like he wants to know who's at his table. "So. You're the guys who've been keeping my idiot son alive."

Harry groans, but it's theatrical. "Dad. Please."

Richard ignores him. "Let me tell you something about this kid," he says, gesturing at Harry with his fork. "You know why he's in Aspire, right?" He waves his hand vaguely. "This brat tried to hack a bank. A bank, can you believe it? Not a video game. Not a social media account. A federally insured financial institution."

We all snort. Harry had mentioned it before, but never the whole story.

"A bank," Richard repeats, grinning with an expression of pride. "Nineteen years old, sitting in his bedroom, and he gets through two layers of their security before the FBI shows up. Two layers! The bank's head of cybersecurity called me and said, and I quote, 'Your son is either a genius or a sociopath.'"

"Their security team was a joke," Harry says, shrugging, and he looks a little embarrassed, but he's smiling. "They fell for the stupidest phishing attempt. 'Click here to review last meeting's note, it's urgent.' Who clicks unknown links like that?!"

"The first time, they forgave him. The second time, he actually managed to move some data around, and then that's when he was prosecuted," Richard says.

"Two times?!" Jack exclaims. Richard nods, like he can't believe it either. Harry focuses on his food, but he's still smiling.

"A man should never give up," he murmurs.

"And before that, there was the gambling ring at his prep school. The school expelled him for that one."

Harry shrugs, not answering.

"He ran a poker operation out of the school library," Richard says. "Had a cashier system, a rotating schedule, and a cut for the janitor who looked the other way. Made twelve thousand dollars in six weeks before the headmaster found it."

We all laugh.

"And it wasn't the first school he was expelled from for illegal activities, was it, Harry?" Richard asks. I'm stunned. I knew stuff about Harry, but not like this.

He tells another story, then another. Harry's failed attempt to counterfeit concert tickets, the time he tried to start a cryptocurrency at fourteen and accidentally created a Ponzi scheme. Each one is delivered with the same blend of exasperation and admiration.

"Now you know why I didn't bail him out of Aspire. This boy has to learn a lesson, or he's damned," Richard says. I bite my lip not to point out that he hasn't been learning anything there.

Harry is different here from the boy I know at Aspire. He's basking in his dad's pride. Even with all his crimes, his dad is clearly proud, and Harry couldn't be happier.

The conversation drifts. Richard asks about the academy. He listens when Jack describes the food with comedic horror. He nods when Liam talks about the kitchen, about Lu. I don't say anything, but I'm laughing and nodding.

Then, somewhere in the middle of dessert, a ridiculously delicious chocolate cake with a molten center, Richard sets his wine glass down and looks at Harry.

"So," he says, and his tone shifts, getting a little more serious. He looks at me. "Harry said he’s run into some complications at the facility. Business-related. What can you tell me about it, Ethan?"

Harry looks at me with huge eyes, as if Richard has asked the wrong person at the table.

But Richard holds up a palm. "I don't need the details. I don't want the details. What I need to know is whether it's as serious as he says it is or if he's just trying to get out of Aspire."

"I never asked you to pull me out," Harry says, defending himself. "I told you, I'll do my time. I don't need you for that."

"Alright, alright," Richard says, raising his hands, the same gesture Harry often does. "I'm not trying to argue. I just want to know if it's really bad."

"Yes, sir," I tell him. "It's serious."

Richard nods to me, then turns to Harry. "Get me the full names of the boys who are threatening you. I'll have them transferred. But Harry. I want to know whether you're done with whatever got you into it. I won't do this again. This will require a huge donation on my part, and I'm sick of that old bulldog Franklin getting my money."