Chapter 6: What Reputation Means
"She expressed concern about the school's reputation," I said back to him.
"Before Letty had been given a single chance to explain herself."
Mr.
Okafor didn't look away this time.
"Mrs.
Hartwell is a significant donor to the school's enrichment fund.
She sits on the parent advisory board.
When she raises a concern, I take it seriously."
"You took it seriously enough to call me in at eight in the morning and frighten my daughter."
"I handled it poorly.
I've already said that."
"I need to know something else." I leaned forward slightly.
"When Mrs.
Hartwell was in this office earlier — did she ask you to make sure this stayed quiet?
Did she ask you to resolve it before it became a story?"
He was quiet for a moment.
"She said that if the school acted decisively, there would be no reason for anyone to take it further."
"And if the school didn't act decisively?"
"She implied she would take the matter to the district herself.
As a formal grievance."
I sat back.
Letty was watching me.
She had heard everything.
"Mom," she said quietly.
"What does that mean?"
"It means Mrs.
Hartwell wanted the school to punish you so that no one would look too closely at what Brooke did."
Millie straightened in her chair.
"Brooke told me this morning that her mom was going to make sure Letty got in trouble.
She said it like she was telling me the weather."
"When?" I asked.
"Before first period.
At the lockers." Millie paused.
"I wrote it down."
She reached into the front pocket of her backpack and pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper.
She set it on the desk next to her letter.
On it, in careful handwriting, was a time, a date, and a direct quote.
*Brooke H.
— 8:04 a.m.
— "My mom's already talked to Mr.
Okafor.
Your friend is going to get in trouble for making everyone feel bad."*
The principal looked at the paper for a long time.
"Millie," he said.
"How long have you been keeping notes like this?"
"Since October," she said simply.
"When things started."
"What things?" I asked.
She looked at her hands.
"Comments.
About my hair.
About how I looked.
About whether I was going to d*e before the end of the school year." She said it without drama, the way children sometimes say the most devastating things.
"Mostly from Brooke.
Sometimes from her friends."
Letty's face had gone white.
"You never told me," she said.
"I didn't want you to feel worse," Millie said.
"You were already sad about your dad."
The silence in that room was a different kind of silence than before.
Heavier.
Older.
I picked up the notebook paper.
"Mr.
Okafor.
I'd like this documented.
I'd also like to know what the school's bullying policy requires you to do with a written record of targeted harassment toward a student with a serious illness."
He reached for the paper.
"I'll need to make a copy," he said.
His voice was quieter now.
My phone buzzed again.
The same number.
Diane Sorrell.
I looked at it, then at Mr.
May you like
Okafor.
"You have until I call her back," I said, "to decide whether the school is going to handle this correctly — or whether I'm going to let the news tell the story of what happened in this office this morning."
