She looks up at him, then at me.
I crouch down too, bringing myself into her line of sight.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I tell her quietly. “Okay?”
She nods.
Micah steps forward then, shoulders squared.
“My aunt says families are just people who love you,” he blurts out. “And Sadie has lots.”
That breaks me.
Carol presses her lips together, eyes shiny now.
Boone exhales slowly. “Thank you, Micah.”
Mrs. Hanover finally steps in, hand light on Sadie’s shoulder. “Why don’t you all head inside? We’ll talk more about kindness this morning.”
As the kids begin to shuffle toward the doors, Carol straightens, clearly aware this isn’t over.
She looks at Boone. At me.
“I’ll… I’ll be speaking with the school counselor,” she says stiffly. “And Eli will be apologizing again. Properly.”
Boone nods once. “Good.”
That’s all he gives her.
Sadie pauses at the door, turns back, and runs toward us one last time.
She throws her arms around Boone, then me, quick and fierce. She needs to lock the moment in place.
“I still have a big family,” she whispers.
Boone’s hand cups the back of her head. “The biggest.”
She smiles at that, then disappears inside with Micah.
The doors close.
Parents disperse slowly, glancing at Boone with something new in their eyes. Respect. Unease. Maybe guilt.
Carol Spence stands alone by the fence, clipboard forgotten at her feet.
She doesn’t look powerful anymore.
She finally realized the story she’d been telling herself doesn’t hold up in daylight.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Delaney
I’mmid-shampoo when the phone rings.
“Are you kidding me?” I mutter, water streaming down my face as I fumble blindly for the conditioner and miss it completely.
The sound echoes faintly through the bathroom, bouncing off tile and steam and my fraying nerves. My heart jumps straight into my throat, because of course it does. My body hasn’t learned yet that ringing phones don’t automatically mean bad news.
