Part 2 of 3

There were many days when I had to count every single penny just to make sure I had enough for the bus fare to work.

I am not exaggerating when I say there were nights when I pretended I was not hungry so that Leo could have a second helping of dinner.

Even during the hardest times, every time he looked at me with those enormous, intelligent eyes, I knew I had no right to give up.

Leo grew up very differently from the other children in our neighborhood.

By the time he was four years old, he had already memorized every bus route and train schedule in the city.

When he was six, he would sit at the kitchen table reading our electricity bills and asking why our kilowatt consumption was so high.

At nine years old, he took apart a burnt out blender and managed to fix it using parts from an old battery operated radio.

In high school, my phone would ring with calls from his teachers, but it was never because he was misbehaving.

“Your son thinks like a senior structural engineer, but he desperately needs real opportunities to grow,” one teacher told me during a meeting.

I did not have the money to provide those opportunities, but I had an unbreakable will to see him succeed.

I took him to every public library in the county and entered him into every free science competition I could find.

Leo learned how to master complex computer programming on a used laptop that a kind neighbor had sold to us for twenty dollars.

At fourteen, he designed a sophisticated system using inexpensive sensors to detect hidden leaks in the city water networks.

When he was fifteen, he won a national youth innovation award for a project focused on structural failures in low cost housing complexes.

Randall eventually found out about Leo’s success through a news article that someone had shared on social media.

He called my cell phone after almost five years of complete and total silence.

“Hey, Lydia, is it true that the kid actually managed to win something important recently?” he asked with a casual tone.

“His name is Leo, and yes, he is achieving incredible things,” I replied while my heart raced with anger.

“Well, look at that, he is apparently quite good with numbers and he probably inherited that talent from me,” Randall laughed.

I had to bite my tongue so hard that I could taste blood just to keep from screaming at him.

“He got his last name from you, but that is the only thing he ever received from your side of the family,” I said firmly.

Randall laughed again, but his laughter sounded hollow and forced through the phone line.

“Don’t be so bitter, because maybe now is the right time for me to approach him and offer my support,” he suggested.

“My name and my professional contacts could be extremely useful to a boy like him in this competitive country,” he added.

“He does not need your contacts or anything else you have to offer,” I told him before hanging up the phone.

Three months after that call, the letter that would change our entire future arrived in our mailbox.

Leo had been accepted into the Elite Scientific Talent Program which selected only ten young people from across the entire nation.

The induction ceremony was to be held in a massive auditorium with members of the press and wealthy business leaders in attendance.

I sat at the small kitchen table and cried tears of relief while holding the official invitation.

Leo, however, remained strangely serious and focused as he looked at the paperwork.

“Mom, there is something very important that I have not told you about my latest research,” he said quietly.

Before I could ask him what he meant, my cell phone vibrated with a new text message.

It was a message from Makayla, who seemed to be keeping close tabs on our lives.

“We will see you at the ceremony because Randall wants to sit in the front row as the proud father,” the message read.

I looked at Leo and saw that he was holding a thick blue folder filled with technical documents and photographs.

“What exactly is in that folder, Leo?” I asked with a sense of growing curiosity.

My son took a deep breath and looked me directly in the eyes with a maturity far beyond his years.

“This is the reason why my father is going to wish he had stayed far away from this ceremony,” he replied.

I began to understand that the event was not just going to be a celebration of Leo’s intelligence.

He was planning to expose a massive lie in front of the most influential people in the country.

Randall arrived at the auditorium late, acting as if the entire world should pause and wait for his arrival.

He walked into the room wearing a tailored gray suit and expensive shoes that looked like they cost more than my car.

Makayla walked beside him with her arm linked in his, wearing a tight white dress and a smile that was clearly rehearsed for the cameras.

She was no longer the eighteen year old girl from the past, but her eyes held a desperate kind of anxiety.

When they walked past the row where I was sitting, Makayla stopped to look me up and down with a judgmental expression.

“Lydia, what a surprise to see you looking so calm given the circumstances,” she said with a smirk.

“I have had fifteen long years to practice my composure,” I told her without blinking.

Randall let out a condescending little laugh as he adjusted the gold watch on his wrist.

“Let us see if the boy is actually as brilliant as the newspapers claim he is,” he remarked.

I chose not to answer him and instead focused my attention on the stage where the ceremony was beginning.

The moderator began with several long speeches about innovation and the power of young minds to transform our society.

Several students took the stage to accept their awards while the audience offered polite rounds of applause.

Finally, the moderator leaned into the microphone to announce the top honor of the evening.

“Please join me in welcoming Leo Rivas to the stage,” the man announced with great enthusiasm.

My son stood up from his seat and adjusted his simple white shirt before walking toward the podium.