The auditorium went silent.
Richard crouched beside her.
Someone in the front row gasped.
“What bike, sweetheart?”
Lily frowned.
“The pink one. You said if we told Mrs. Carter you always help us, you’d get it.”
Someone in the front row gasped.
Richard straightened.
Before anyone could respond, ten-year-old Sam spoke from behind Grace.
“She misunderstood,” he said quickly.
Mrs. Carter stared at him.
Before anyone could respond, ten-year-old Sam spoke from behind Grace.
“You told me I’d get the game too.”
Richard turned sharply.
“Sam.”
The older children exchanged looks.
My son stepped backward.
The older children exchanged looks.
I knew then.
Claire looked furious.
I stood.
“Kids, come with me.”
Dozens of people watched us cross the hallway into an empty classroom.
Richard started down the steps.
“Megan, let’s not overreact.”
I looked straight at him.
“Stay here for five minutes.”
For once, he listened.
Dozens of people watched us cross the hallway into an empty classroom.
“Several weeks ago, Dad said he might be nominated for this award.”
I shut the door, faced my children, and kept my voice steady.
“Nobody is in trouble. I need the truth. What did Dad tell you?”
Lily looked at Sam.
Sam looked at Claire.
Claire closed her eyes.
“Several weeks ago, Dad said he might be nominated for this award,” Claire began. “He said teachers sometimes ask us questions.”
“He said we shouldn’t forget all the things he did for us.”
Sam interrupted. “He didn’t tell us exactly what to say.”
Grace nodded.
