Chapter 2
The helicopter settled beyond the courtyard fence.
Wind tore at the trees. Students backed away, holding their jackets against their bodies. Sophia kept one hand on Logan’s arm, but she had stopped smiling.
I wished it had never come.
I had spent two years asking my father not to appear at school. He had respected that, even when he hated it. Now Mom’s necklace lay broken in my palm, and everyone was staring at the field.
Principal Walsh ordered the students inside. Hardly anyone moved.
Mr. Bennett came back from speaking to the pilot.
“Your father is walking over.”
I could see him already. My father, Adrian Carter, crossed the field in a dark suit with his tie pulled loose. Two members of his staff followed, but he waved them back at the gate.
He came straight to me.
“Are you hurt?”
“My hand.”
He looked at it. The skin across my knuckles was red. His face tightened, but he did not turn toward anyone else until I nodded that I was all right.
Then he saw the necklace.
“May I?” he asked.
I opened my hand. He lifted the damaged chain with two fingers. For a moment, I saw him forget the school, the crowd, even me. He looked like the man who had sat on my bedroom floor after Mom died, holding this same necklace because he could not bear to put it away.
“Who did this?”
I pointed at Sophia.
“She pulled it off me and stepped on it.”
Sophia moved closer to Mr. Walsh.
“That isn’t what happened.”
“And Logan kicked my hand when I tried to stand,” I said.
Logan’s eyes flashed toward me. “I barely touched you.”
“You did it,” I said. “I felt it.”
My father turned to Mr. Walsh.
“I want Mia seen by the nurse. I want the footage from this courtyard preserved. I want every student who witnessed this able to give an account without being pressured.”
Mr. Walsh nodded rapidly.
“Of course, Mr. Carter.”
I heard Sophia whisper, “Mr. Carter?”
Her father owned a construction company that sometimes worked with my father’s firm. She recognized the name now.
Dad heard her too, but kept his attention on me.
“Will you go to the nurse with Bennett?”
“I don’t want to leave while they tell everyone I stole it.”
“Then I’ll stay with you until we’ve dealt with that.”
His answer steadied me.
Mr. Walsh guided us into his office. Sophia and Logan came with their parents on speakerphone. Mr. Bennett asked the school technician to secure the camera recording before anyone watched or copied it.
The nurse cleaned my hand. Nothing was broken, though it hurt when I bent my fingers. She took photographs for the medical record after asking my permission.
When I returned to the office, Sophia’s mother had arrived. She looked at Dad before she looked at me.
“This is a misunderstanding,” she said.
“Sophia took my necklace,” I answered. “She called me a thief in front of everyone.”
Sophia folded her arms.
“Because she wouldn’t explain where she got it.”
“I don’t owe you an explanation before you leave my things alone.”
Mr. Walsh cleared his throat. “We’ll review the footage.”
It showed everything. Sophia catching the chain. The necklace falling. Her shoe pressing down. Me slipping as I reached for it. Logan kicking my hand.
Nobody spoke when the screen went dark.
Sophia’s mother was the first to find her voice.
“Sophia will apologize.”
I looked at Sophia. She stared at the floor.
“I want the school to handle what she did,” I said. “An apology in this room won’t change what she told everyone outside.”
Dad’s hand rested on the back of my chair. He let me finish.
Logan leaned forward.
“I shouldn’t have kicked her,” he said.
“You shouldn’t have,” I answered.
He looked as though he wanted me to make it easier for him. I couldn’t.
Mr. Walsh said the school would begin a formal investigation. He would notify both families in writing and speak to the students who had witnessed it. Dad asked for a copy of the school’s response by the next day.
As we rose to leave, Sophia looked directly at him.
“My dad works with your company,” she said. “He’ll want to talk.”
“Your father can talk to me about business,” Dad replied. “Today he needs to talk to you.”
I followed Mr. Bennett out a side door so I would not have to cross the crowd. From the hallway window, I could see the field where the helicopter waited.
“Are we flying home?” I asked Dad.
“If you want to.”
I shook my head.
“Can we take the car? I need to see Mom.”
He knew which mom I meant.
Mrs. Reyes would still be cleaning the east wing. Dad took out his phone and asked Mr. Bennett to have the car brought around.
But before we reached it, the door at the end of the hall opened. Mrs. Reyes stood there with a cleaning cart, her face wet with tears.
“Mia,” she said. “Someone showed me a video.”
I went to her.
She held me carefully, avoiding my sore hand. Over her shoulder, I saw my father stop walking.
Mrs. Reyes looked at him.
“We need to tell her,” she said.
I drew back.
May you like
“Tell me what?”
Dad’s expression changed. The anger I had seen outside gave way to fear.
