My brother doesn’t push. Just squeezes my shoulder once.
After a moment he leans in close so others can’thear. “Our mutual friend doesn’t want to see me, either... we might have to stage an intervention at some point.”
I purse my lips, then answer softly. “We’d need Jag on board.”
“I can get him on board,” he assures me.
I consider his proposal for a moment. “I don’t know... Marco just needs... time.”
Ethan sits back, seeming unconvinced. Then he sighs. “All right. We’ll give him a while longer.”
We turn our attention to the front where the principal is starting her welcome speech.
Then she introduces Elena, who stands up. She walks to the podium wearing a tailored suit.
“Parent Bill of Care,” she announces. Behind her, the screen fills with her presentation.
So she finally finished it, I think.
“Simple rules,” she continues. “No posting kids’ faces without explicit written permission. No meltdown videos. Ever. Fast takedown protocol if something slips through. We’ve set up a QR code system that routes directly to our response team.”
It’s very similar to our Family Meal Mondays rules. I expected the parents to be excited about something like this, but instead the room goes very quiet.
“This is about privacy,” Elena continues. “And safety. And respecting that these are children, not content machines.”
A mom in the back raises her hand. “What about birthday party photos?”
“If your child is in the photo, you control that. If other children are in the photo, you need permission from every parent.”
“That seems excessive,” anotherparent says.
Elena’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “Is it? Or is it basic human decency in an age where a photo can be screenshot, edited, and weaponized in under sixty seconds?”
The Q&A gets tense. Some parents push back. Others nod along. Eventually it comes to a vote.
The Bill passes.
Not unanimously but enough that it’s official.
After the meeting, a woman approaches me. I recognize her from pickup. She’s the one who posted the hallway clip of Ben having a meltdown. The clip Sabrina and Amara helped take down.
“Jessica?” Her voice is small. “Can we talk?”
I want to say no. Want to walk away. But curiosity wins.
“Sure.”
We step into the hallway. She wraps her arms around herself. “I wanted to apologize. For the video. I wasn’t thinking. I just saw Benedetta struggling and thought maybe other parents would relate but I didn’t consider how it might affect her. Or you. Or your family. I’m sorry. Especially for how I captioned the video. That wasn’t... wasn’t right.”
The apology hangs there.
I’m still kind of angry at her, especially regarding the aforementioned caption, but instead I take the high ground.
“Thank you for saying that,” I tell her.
She nods. Leaves.
Ethan joins me. “I saw that. You okay?”
