“The school will proceed with a formal removal. I will prepare the letter. You may collect their belongings today.”
My sons stiffened. Myra squeezed their hands harder as if she could shield them from the weight of every word spoken in the room. I remained standing, calm on the surface, but sharper inside.
“You are making a mistake,” I said.
The principal looked at his desk instead of looking at me. “The decision has been made.”
Nicole exhaled softly in victory. The classmate’s mother smoothed her skirt and gave a small nod of approval. Myra glared at both of them with a ferocity far too old for her young face.
I touched her shoulder lightly. She eased but did not look away from the adults who were trying to decide the fate of her closest buddies.
“Do not speak while you are angry,”
