Chapter 3: The Child in the Photograph
The girl in the photograph was Emily Grant, the police chief’s ten-year-old daughter.
Max had her backpack twisted around one fist while Principal Denise Ward stood at the end of the hallway, looking away.
“Richard said the chief plays golf with him,” I told the secretary.
“He does,” she said.
“That is why Emily’s complaint disappeared.”
Richard reached for the folder, but I pulled it against my chest.
“Give me that, Elena.”
“No.”
“You have no authority here.”
“Neither do you, yet everyone behaves as if you own the building.”
The secretary locked the office door behind her.
Her name badge read NORA BELL, and her fingers trembled against the key.
“I made copies,” she said.
“If anything happens to this folder, the originals still exist.”
Principal Ward stared at her.
“Nora, you’re fired.”
“You told me to change four reports.”
“I told you to correct clerical errors.”
“You told me to replace ‘pushed’ with ‘fell.’ Those were your exact words.”
Richard stepped between them.
“This woman is upset.
She has worked too many hours and misunderstood a private conversation.”
Nora opened the folder to three bank statements.
“I understood the deposits.
Fifty thousand dollars entered the school foundation account.
Three days later, every complaint against Max was closed.”
“That was a donation,” Richard said.
“Then why did twenty thousand go into Denise Ward’s personal consulting company?”
The principal grabbed the edge of her desk.
Richard did not look at her.
I turned another page and found a complaint bearing my name.
Someone had written that Sophie and I accepted the school’s explanation of an earlier hallway incident.
The signature at the bottom looked almost like mine.
Almost.
“I never signed this.”
Richard’s voice softened.
“Think carefully before you accuse anyone.”
“You forged my signature.”
“You cannot prove who wrote it.”
Nora lifted her phone.
“I can prove who ordered it.”
Richard’s hand moved toward the phone, but Max caught his sleeve.
“Dad, stop.”
“Sit down,” Richard snapped.
Max sat so quickly that the gaming device slipped from his hands.
I looked at Principal Ward.
“Call district counsel.
Preserve every file, email, camera recording, and financial record.”
Richard laughed, but there was no warmth in it.
“You really want to do this publicly?
I know reporters, Elena.
I know members of the judicial commission.
How will it look when the Chief Judge uses her office to punish a child?”
“I will not investigate this case or hear it.
Independent officers will handle everything.”
“Then you are just an angry mother holding stolen papers.”
Nora raised her chin.
“I gave them to her.”
Richard took out his checkbook again.
“Name a number, Nora.”
She stared at the blank check.
“You think everyone has a price because you have never met anyone with a conscience.”
My phone rang.
The hospital number appeared on the screen.
“Elena?” the nurse said when I answered.
“A man claiming to represent Sophie’s father tried to enter her room and have her transferred.”
“Sophie’s father passed away six years ago.”
Richard’s eyes remained fixed on me.
The nurse lowered her voice.
“Then you need to come back now.
He left a document on your daughter’s bed.”
May you like
“What document?”
“A petition saying you are an unfit mother—and that Sophie should be removed from your care tonight.”
