Chapter 8: Administrative Leave
The letter was printed on district letterhead and delivered to Mrs.
Hargrove's home address by end of business that same day, as Okafor had promised.
She read it at her kitchen table.
*Dear Mrs.
Hargrove,*
*Effective immediately, you are placed on paid administrative leave pending the outcome of a formal investigation into conduct alleged to have occurred on school premises.
You are required to surrender your building access card and school-issued devices to Principal Holt's office no later than 8:00 a.m.
tomorrow.
You will be contacted by the district's legal team within five business days to schedule an interview.
You are advised to seek independent legal counsel.*
She set the letter down.
She picked it up again.
She read the third paragraph twice.
*In addition to the incident of [date], the investigation will encompass conduct alleged to have occurred during the previous academic year involving a former student.
Documentation relevant to this period has been submitted to the district and will form part of the evidentiary record.*
She put the letter face-down on the table.
She called Fitch.
"They have something from the previous year," she said when he answered.
"I know," he said.
"The Simmons family."
"That complaint was closed."
"It was closed administratively.
It was never formally adjudicated.
There's a difference, Sandra, and the district's legal team will know it."
She was quiet.
"There's something else," Fitch said.
"I received a call from the district an hour ago.
There is a video recording of the incident.
With audio."
The kitchen was very still.
"Who took it?" she asked.
"The same student who took the photograph."
She stood up from the table.
She walked to the window.
Outside, her neighbor was walking a dog along the pavement, unhurried, ordinary.
"What does it show?" she asked.
"I haven't seen it yet," Fitch said.
"But based on the district's tone, I think you should prepare for the possibility that this goes beyond a formal reprimand."
"What does that mean?"
"It means," Fitch said carefully, "that you should call your own lawyer tonight.
Not tomorrow.
Tonight."
She didn't respond immediately.
"Sandra," Fitch said.
"Is there anything you haven't told me?
Anything that might be in that video that I should know about before I walk into a meeting with the district?"
A long pause.
"She provoked him," Mrs.
Hargrove said finally.
"The boy.
He was deliberately trying to get a reaction from me.
He sits there with that look on his face like he's above everything, like the rules don't apply to him, like —"
"Sandra." Fitch's voice was flat.
"Stop.
Do not say that to me again and do not say it to anyone else.
Not to the district, not to Legal, not to anyone."
"It's the truth."
"It doesn't matter.
What matters is what's on that video.
And if what's on that video is a fifteen-year-old boy sitting quietly eating his lunch while you remove his tray and tell him to learn his place, then the truth you just told me will destroy you."
Silence.
"Call a lawyer," Fitch said.
"Tonight."
He hung up.
Mrs.
Hargrove stood at the window for a long time.
The neighbor with the dog had gone.
The street was empty.
She picked up her phone.
She scrolled to a name she hadn't called in two years.
A former colleague who had left the district under circumstances nobody talked about anymore.
She pressed call.
It rang four times.
Then voicemail.
She didn't leave a message.
---
Two miles away, Diane Webb was making dinner when Marcus came into the kitchen and sat at the counter without being asked.
"Mom," he said.
"Yeah."
"Did you go to the school board today?"
She kept her back to him, stirring.
"I had an appointment."
"With who?"
"Superintendent Okafor."
A pause.
"What did you bring him?"
She turned around.
She looked at her son — fifteen years old, sitting at her kitchen counter, asking the question with the same quiet steadiness he had shown in that cafeteria.
"Everything," she said.
He nodded once.
He didn't ask anything else.
She turned back to the stove.
After a moment, she heard him get up and open the refrigerator.
Normal sounds.
Ordinary sounds.
May you like
"Set the table," she said.
"Already am," he said.
