Chapter 4
By morning, the helicopter had become the only story anyone wanted to tell.
Students posted clips of it landing. People who had walked past me for years suddenly sent messages asking whether my father really owned Carter Holdings. Some wanted to apologize for believing Sophia. Others wanted pictures of the aircraft.
I left my phone on the kitchen counter.
Mrs. Reyes placed toast beside me.
“You don’t have to go to school today,” she said.
“I know.”
Dad sat across from me, reading the letter the principal had sent overnight. Mr. Walsh said Sophia and Logan had been removed from classes while the investigation continued. He had asked students who saw the incident to come forward.
“He wants to meet this afternoon,” Dad said.
“I’ll go.”
Mrs. Reyes looked at my hand. “How does it feel?”
“Sore. I can write.”
I said it because I wanted to do something ordinary. Dad understood.
“I’ll take you,” he said.
“No helicopter.”
He almost smiled. “No helicopter.”
At school, I went through the front doors. The conversations around me thinned. I could feel eyes following me to my locker.
My friend Nia was waiting there. She had been absent the day before for a doctor’s appointment. She threw her arms around me.
“I saw the video. Are you okay?”
“I’m getting there.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
She pulled back and examined my face.
“I mean it. I would’ve stood beside you.”
“I know.”
That was why she was my friend. She had liked me when I was only Mia with a rusty bike.
In first period, our teacher asked whether I wanted to step out. I told her I wanted to stay. Halfway through class, a student who had laughed in the video passed me a note.
I shouldn’t have laughed. I’m sorry.
I read it, folded it, and put it away. I did not have the strength to decide what to say.
At lunch, Logan approached my table. Nia stood up before he reached us.
“I just want a minute,” he said.
“I don’t,” I answered.
He kept his distance, but his voice carried.
“I know I messed up. Sophia was telling me things for weeks.”
“You chose to believe her.”
“I was confused about that man in the SUV.”
“You could have asked me and respected my answer.”
“I did ask. You wouldn’t tell me.”
I looked at him for a long moment.
“I told you I wasn’t ready. You decided that meant I deserved what happened.”
His face reddened.
“I never meant for her to hurt you.”
“You kicked my hand.”
He glanced toward the other tables. He hated that they could hear.
“I said I was sorry.”
“I heard you.”
I picked up my lunch. Nia followed me to another table, and Logan let us go.
The meeting with Mr. Walsh took place after classes. Dad came with me. Mrs. Reyes came as a trustee and as my mother. She had changed out of her work uniform, but I could see the principal recognize her only when Dad held out a chair for her beside us.
Mr. Walsh began with another apology.
I asked him a question before he could continue.
“If Mr. Bennett hadn’t arrived, would you have listened to me?”
He took a moment.
“I should have asked you to explain before I spoke of any punishment.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“No,” he said quietly. “I don’t think I would have handled it as carefully.”
Mrs. Reyes wrote his answer in her notebook.
Mr. Walsh showed us the witness statements and the planned disciplinary process. Several students confirmed the footage. Sophia and Logan would be allowed to respond before the school made a final decision.
I was glad the school was following its rules. I wanted those rules to matter when the student hurt was someone else.
Then Mr. Walsh said something that made Mrs. Reyes put down her pen.
“Sophia’s father has requested that we keep the matter within the families.”
Dad leaned forward. “What authority does he have to make that request?”
“He serves on the school’s facilities committee.”
“Then the committee should know he’s involved,” Mrs. Reyes said. “He shouldn’t be part of any decision about this.”
Mr. Walsh agreed, though he looked uncomfortable.
As we left, Dad’s phone rang. It was his legal director. He listened, thanked her, and turned to me.
“Sophia’s father asked one of our executives to delay a construction payment unless we convince the school to close its investigation.”
I stopped in the hallway.
“He’s trying to use your company?”
“He tried,” Dad said. “We’re documenting it. The payment will go through under the contract.”
May you like
I thought of Sophia saying her father would want to talk.
Now I understood what she had meant.
