It was true, but to hear someone say it as though Joe got what he deserved broke something inside me.
I had spent years trying to protect Emma from those ugly stories. Somewhere along the way, I must’ve done something right.
I had sat down beside her and gathered her into my arms.
He answered questions about the “convenient timing” of Joe’s death
“That was a beautiful thing you did,” I whispered. “But next time, you tell me. We’ll do it together.”
Now, driving to the school, that memory sat in my chest like a stone.
When I got there, the principal was waiting outside his office.
“Thank you for coming so quickly,” he said.
“What happened?”
“Someone is here asking for Emma. He’s sitting in my office right now waiting for you.”
“What’s going on here?”
The principal lowered his head. “He didn’t introduce himself. He only said that you know him.”
The principal was waiting outside his office.
“Where is Emma?”
“She’s in the counseling room. She’s okay.” He glanced at the office door behind him. “The man inside asked to see her first. When we told him we needed to call you, he said that was fine. He’d wait for you.”
I put my hand on the handle and stopped.
