Vaarbewijs4all

The rain hadn’t stopped for three days. Not the gentle coastal drizzle the locals joked about, but a hard, slanting downpour that turned the IJsselmeer into a slab of hammered lead. Inside the cramped office of Vaarbewijs4all, the world had shrunk to the glow of two monitors and the ticking of a radiator that hadn't worked since the '90s.

Finn had a choice. Feed the answer. Keep the money. Stay safe.

“Someone who knows that a man who cheats for a living still has a conscience. Prove me right, captain. Or prove me wrong—but I promise, your son’s school fees won’t be your biggest problem tomorrow.” Vaarbewijs4all

“Good choice, captain. Now run.”

“Red right returning,” Finn said, calm as a harbor master. “Answer A.” The rain hadn’t stopped for three days

Finn pulled up the exam interface on his secondary monitor. He’d hacked the CBR’s practice environment years ago—knew every question, every trick image, every poorly translated buoy question designed to fail foreigners and stressed-out executives.

“You’re not here to sail, meneer. You’re here to point at a screen. I’m the captain. You’re the autopilot.” Finn had a choice

“Take the real exam next week,” Finn said. “You might surprise yourself.”

Then Van der Heijden whispered, “My children.”

He looked at the photo on his desk—his son, Lars, eight years old, missing two front teeth, holding a paper boat he’d folded himself. “Vaarbewijs4all,” Lars had written on the side. “Daddy’s boat school.”

His phone buzzed. Unknown number.