Holly starts to say something, then twists her mouth to the side and keeps her silence.
Jane, on the other hand, is devastated. “I was good today. I didn’t get in trouble even once. I promise.”
A couple of the other kids snicker, but I give them a dark glare before returning my gaze to my daughter, my heart breaking.
She thinks I’m making her leave as a punishment.
“You’re free to take her, of course,” Holly says evenly. “But we’re almost done for the day, and Jane hasn’t put hair on her avatar. Maybe you could sit in the hallway—” She grimaces when she sees my face darken. “Or the front of the computer lab for the next five minutes until we finish.”
Jane’s pleading look is so pathetic that I give one sharp nod. She looks torn between running over to hug me and being embarrassed that I’m here, so I head to the front corner of the room and wedge myself into a small chair/desk combo built for someone half my size.
Holly starts giving the kids directions, telling them what to type to give their avatars hair. Some of the kids look over at me, genuinely curious as to why I’m there, but Jane is intent on what Holly is telling them. I can’t see any of their screens, so I can’t see what they’re creating.
The session actually goes ten minutes over, and most of the kids groan when Holly tells them it’s time to save their work on their thumb drives and bring them up to her.
“We’ll work on them again next week,” she assures them.
They finish their grumbling and grab their things, handing the thumb drives over like she asked. The guy—Mikey—offers to walk them to the exit, but he shoots me a warning look before he heads out.
“What was that about?” I murmur to myself.
Holly crosses her arms. “You’re not exuding a lot of charm right now.”
“Yeah,” I say defensively. “It’s not exactly easy after…” I let my words trail off as my gaze lands on Jane, who is still typing on her screen. Maybe she thinks there’s no hurry to wrap things up since I’m sitting right here. “You know.”
Holly moves closer, dropping her arms and lowering her voice. “Did you take care of things?”
I try to pry myself out of the desk, not an easy feat, and glance up at Jane to see if she’s laughing at me. She’s still intent on her work.
“You made me sit here on purpose,” I accuse, glaring at Holly.
An evil glint fills her eyes. “I said you could sit in the hall.”
“You knew I wouldn’t.”
“Which brings us back around to my question. Did you take care of the problem?”
“If you’re asking if there’s a freshly turned patch of dirt underneath the reflection bench next to the flagpole, then, no.”
“Dad would never be so obvious about burying a body,” Jane says, her gaze still on the screen. “He’d be a lot more careful than that.”
Holly’s brow shoots up, and she smirks.
I, on the other hand, am not so amused. “Jane, wrap it up. I need to get to work. I’ll be waiting in the hall.”
I stride out the door and stand in the hallway, staring at a bulletin board tacked with multiple three-paragraph essays about Hanukkah.
Seconds later, Holly follows, propping her hands on her hips. “I’m reasonably sure you didn’t come out here to learn about Hanukkah, although itisyour reading level. You’re trying to avoid me.”
I bark a laugh. “You think?”
“Well, spill it. What happened?”
“You think I’m going to tell you my private business?” I ask in disbelief.
“Iamthe one who caught the guy.”
A zing of fear shoots through me.
