Chapter 6: The Note in Her Backpack
I stared at the name.
Nova.
For several seconds, I couldn't process it.
“My daughter filed a complaint?””
The administrator nodded.
“She submitted a written statement through the student support office.””
“When?””
“Eight months ago.””
I looked toward Mrs. Carter.
She was sitting completely still.
“Why wasn't I told?””
The administrator hesitated.
“That is part of what we're investigating.””
I stood.
“What did she write?””
He opened the folder.
“It was a handwritten note.””
“Can I see it?””
He handed it to me.
The paper was folded four times.
I recognized Nova's handwriting immediately.
The letters were uneven.
Some words were darker because she'd pressed too hard with the pencil.
I read.
Mrs. Carter doesn't like when I ask questions.
My eyes moved down.
She says I make the other kids wait.
Another line.
She told me people don't want to sit next to my chair.
My breathing stopped.
Then:
I don't think she wants me in her class.
At the bottom, Nova had drawn a tiny astronaut.
Underneath it were four words.
I still want friends.
I pressed the paper against my chest.
The auditorium disappeared.
I could hear only the sound of Nova's voice from months earlier.
Mom, school was okay.
She had smiled.
She had lied.
I looked at the administrator.
“Why didn't anyone contact me?””
“We don't have a clear answer yet.””
Mrs. Carter suddenly spoke.
“Because it wasn't a formal complaint.””
Everyone turned.
She looked nervous now.
“She was upset that day. Children write things they don't mean.””
I stared at her.
“You knew about this.””
Mrs. Carter said nothing.
“You knew my daughter asked for help.””
“I knew she had concerns.””
“And you stayed her teacher.””
“She wasn't in danger.””
I stepped toward her.
“She was telling adults she was being isolated.””
“I disagreed with her interpretation.””
“Her interpretation?””
My voice shook.
“She wrote that she still wanted friends.””
Mrs. Carter looked away.
Elena quietly said,
“That should have been enough.””
The district administrator closed the folder.
“We're placing Mrs. Carter on administrative leave pending a full investigation.””
Mrs. Carter stood so quickly her chair fell backward.
“You can't do this.””
The principal caught the chair.
“Please leave the room.””
“You're destroying my career over a misunderstanding.””
I looked at her.
“No.””
She stared at me.
“You started this long before the birthday party.””
Her eyes narrowed.
“You don't understand.””
“Then explain it.””
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Finally she whispered,
“Nova was supposed to transfer.””
I froze.
“What?””
Mrs. Carter looked at the floor.
“She wasn't supposed to stay in my class this year.””
“Why?””
“Because the district had discussed moving her to a specialized program.””
Elena's expression changed.
“And you didn't want her here.””
Mrs. Carter said nothing.
The administrator immediately interrupted.
“That decision was never finalized.””
I looked at him.
“Why was it discussed?””
He hesitated.
“Because Mrs. Carter submitted a recommendation.””
My stomach dropped.
“You recommended removing my daughter from her class?””
Mrs. Carter's voice cracked.
“I thought it would be better for everyone.””
“For everyone?””
“For Nova too.””
“No.””
I shook my head.
“You don't get to decide where my daughter belongs.””
The meeting ended shortly afterward.
I drove home with Nova's note sitting on the passenger seat.
When I walked through the front door, I found her at the dining table.
She was drawing.
A rocket.
Two astronauts.
One wheelchair floating beside them.
She looked up.
“Mom?””
I tried to smile.
“Hey.””
“You were gone a long time.””
“I had a meeting.””
“With school?””
“Yes.””
She studied my face.
“Am I in trouble?””
I crossed the room and knelt beside her.
“No.””
“Is Mrs. Carter mad at me?””
I couldn't answer immediately.
Nova put down her pencil.
“She told me not to write things down.””
My heart stopped.
“What things?””
“Things that make teachers look bad.””
I stared at her.
“Nova, what did you write?””
She looked toward her backpack.
“There are more.””
“More what?””
“Notes.””
She reached inside and pulled out a small blue notebook.
She placed it in my hands.
“I started keeping it because I thought maybe you wouldn't believe me.””
My fingers tightened around the cover.
“Why didn't you show me?””
“Because Mrs. Carter said if I kept complaining, you might have to change schools.””
I opened the notebook.
The first page had a date.
Then another.
Then another.
Eight months of entries.
Eight months of things my daughter had been too afraid to tell me.
I turned the first page.
And halfway down, I saw a sentence that made my blood run cold.
Today Mrs. Carter told me the reason my friends don't invite me anymore.
I turned the page.
The next sentence was underlined three times.
She said my mom is the reason.
Then, tucked between the pages, was a photograph.
It showed Mrs. Carter standing beside another teacher in an empty classroom.
On the whiteboard behind them was a list of names.
Nova's name was at the top.
May you like
And beside it were three words:
*MAKE HER LEAVE.*
