Chapter 6: Diane
She came in still wearing her work uniform — pale blue shirt, her company's logo on the chest, her hair pulled back the way she always wore it for shifts.
She had taken the bus.
It had taken her forty minutes.
She walked through the front door of the school and her eyes found Marcus on the bench immediately, the way a mother's eyes always do, scanning for damage before anything else.
She crossed the lobby in eight steps and crouched in front of him, both hands on his face.
"Let me see."
He held out his right hand.
She turned it over.
The welt had faded to a dull pink line across his palm.
She looked at it for a long time without speaking.
Her jaw was set.
Her eyes were steady.
Then she stood up, and the expression that replaced the searching one was something Marcus had only seen a few times in his life — quiet, contained, and completely immovable.
"Where is she?" Diane asked.
"She's gone," Marcus said.
"They sent her home."
"And who's in charge here right now?"
"Principal Hargrove.
And a woman from the district.
Ms.
Vance."
Diane smoothed the front of her uniform shirt once, a habit, and said, "Take me to them."
The meeting in Hargrove's office lasted forty minutes.
Marcus sat beside his mother and listened.
Ms.
Vance explained the district's immediate steps: Mrs.
Gallagher had been placed on administrative leave pending a formal investigation.
The district's legal counsel had been notified.
A full review of any prior complaints involving Mrs.
Gallagher would be conducted within seventy-two hours.
Diane listened to all of it without interrupting.
When Ms.
Vance finished, Diane said, "Has she done this to other children?"
Ms.
Vance paused just slightly.
"That's part of what the review will determine."
"That's not an answer."
Another pause.
"We have received prior complaints.
The nature and handling of those complaints will be part of the investigation."
Diane looked at her steadily.
"How many?"
"Mrs.
Carter, I'm not in a position to—"
"How many children sat in that classroom and heard what my son heard, and nothing was done?"
The room was quiet.
Ms.
Vance looked down at her portfolio.
"I understand your frustration."
"I don't think you do," Diane said.
Not loudly.
Not with anger in her voice.
Just with the weight of absolute certainty.
"My son went to school this morning.
He sat in a classroom with a teacher who hit him and told him he didn't belong there.
And somewhere in this building there is a file that says someone knew something was wrong with that woman, and they left her in that room anyway."
She let that sit.
"I want to know what's in that file."
Ms.
Vance closed her portfolio.
"Mrs.
Carter, I give you my word that this investigation will be thorough and transparent."
Diane looked at her for a long moment.
Then she turned to Marcus.
"Are you ready to go home?"
"Yeah," he said.
She stood, picked up her bag, and looked once more at Ms.
Vance.
"My son's name is Marcus Carter.
Make sure it's spelled correctly in every document you file today."
She walked out.
Marcus followed.
In the parking lot, Diane stopped beside the low brick wall at the school entrance.
She put her hand on top of it and looked at the street.
Marcus stood next to her.
After a moment she said, "Does it still hurt?"
"Not really."
She nodded.
She didn't say anything else for a while.
Then she put her arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, just briefly, the way she did when she thought he was asleep and didn't know she was doing it.
"You didn't do anything wrong today," she said.
"Not one thing."
Marcus leaned into her for just a moment.
"I know," he said.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
She looked at it.
An unknown number.
She showed it to Marcus — he shook his head, he didn't recognize it either.
She let it go to voicemail.
May you like
It buzzed again immediately.
This time the screen showed a name: *Channel 4 News.*
