It was Kathleen’s face. Someone had pasted it onto an embarrassing image, complete with a cruel caption mocking her sketching and her clothes. Little heart emojis lined the bottom, as if it were a joke everyone was in on.
My hand flew over my mouth!
“This was circulated in a private group chat the girls at camp made,” Mr. Paulson said quietly. “A counselor confiscated a phone after a separate incident, and we recently found the original file.”
“I knew it,” I breathed. “Brenda! She’s been off with Kathleen for weeks. Kathleen even told me.”
The vice principal let me finish. Then he folded his hands on the desk.
“Candice, it wasn’t Brenda.”
I blinked at him.
“A counselor confiscated a phone.”
“The edit history was intact. The file was created and sent by the new girl, Maya.”
I actually laughed.
“Maya? Kathleen has been saving that girl a seat since she arrived. She invited her into the group when nobody else would. That doesn’t make sense.”
“I know,” Mr. Paulson said gently. “But it’s what happened. And from what the counselors pieced together, Brenda was actually the one who told Maya to delete it. When Maya refused, Brenda stopped speaking to her. That’s the argument the girls had.”
I actually laughed.
I sat back. The chair suddenly felt too small.
Every conversation I’d had with my daughter over the last week rearranged itself in my head.
The “argued with a friend over one photo.”
The tight little smile.
The sketchbook laying untouched on her nightstand.
I had painted the loud girl as the villain and completely missed the quiet one.
The chair suddenly felt too small.
“She’s been carrying this alone,” I said, more to myself than to him.
Mr. Paulson nodded. “I’d like to set up a meeting tomorrow morning. Maya, her mother, Kathleen, you, and I. If your daughter’s willing.”
***
I drove home with my hands shaking on the wheel.
The printout sat folded on the passenger seat as if it were breathing.
“She’s been carrying this alone.”
***
Kathleen was on her bed when I got home, her phone beside her, staring at the ceiling.
I thanked Mandy, and she went home.
I sat on the edge of the mattress and set the paper down between us.
My daughter looked at it, then her whole face crumpled.
“Mom…”
“Come here, baby.”
She went home.
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