The staff members exchanged helpless glances.
“Dear parent,” one of them said carefully, “we are following a version of the international fencing rules, but because these are still young students, certain fouls are… tolerated within reason.”
The words were polite, yet the meaning was clear: they were prepared to overlook what Julian had done.
Naomi Hart’s voice turned cold, edged with restrained fury. “I want this match stopped.”
“Only the student themselves can request a pause,” the staff member replied, still patient. “Please rest assured, we will not allow any child to suffer real physical harm. The school’s emergency medical team is already on standby. No student will be placed in danger.”
Naomi was not reassured.
Guilt had been living in her chest for years. She had poured most
