Chapter 7

Jacqueline

Nobody said a thing.

I understood then. Maybe some of them had seen it. Maybe they hadn’t.

But nobody wanted to be the person who stood against Alma.

Mrs. Bennett’s expression tightened. “Fine.”

She turned back toward us. “Let’s go.”

Everything beyond a few feet was still a haze of colors and moving shapes.

I couldn’t even tell who was standing where anymore.

Claire immediately moved beside me. “Take my arm.”

I hesitated for only a second before slipping my hand around her arm.

“Thanks.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

Behind us, Alma walked with her chin held high, though every few seconds she tried smoothing her messy hair back into place.

One of her friends hurried after her. “Alma, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened.” She shot Claire a cold look. “Some people just can’t control themselves.”

Claire stopped walking. “Oh, you want to keep talking?”

Mrs. Bennett turned sharply. “Miss Reynolds.”

Claire clenched her jaw. “…Sorry, ma’am.”

“Keep walking.”

No one spoke again.

A few minutes later…

The principal’s office came into view.

Mrs. Bennett knocked once before opening the door.

“Sir?”

The middle-aged principal looked up from the paperwork on his desk.

His eyes immediately landed on the four of us.

Claire’s disheveled hair. Alma’s wrinkled blazer. My scraped palms. The broken glasses Mrs. Bennett was carrying.

He sighed quietly. “…I assume this wasn’t a friendly discussion.”

“I’m afraid not,” Mrs. Bennett replied.

“Miss Carter, why don’t you have a seat?”

I nodded and carefully lowered myself into one of the chairs.

Mr. Harrison looked at the broken glasses. “Those yours?”

“…Yes, sir.”

“What happened?”

Before I could answer, Claire spoke. “Alma tripped her.”

“I did not,” Alma shot back immediately.

Mrs. Bennett raised a hand. “One at a time.”

The office fell silent.

Mr. Harrison folded his arms. “Miss Carter.”

His voice was calm. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

Every pair of eyes turned toward me.

I swallowed. “I… don’t really know.”

Claire looked at me in disbelief.

I lowered my gaze. “I was walking toward the door… then I tripped.”

“You didn’t see what caused it?”

I slowly shook my head. “No, sir.”

“I fell too quickly.”

He nodded once before looking at Claire. “And why did you believe Miss Wilson was responsible?”

“I saw her.”

“You saw her foot?”

Claire hesitated. “I… saw her move it.”

Alma folded her arms. “She’s lying.”

“I am not!”

“You are.”

“Enough.” Mr. Harrison’s voice cut through the room.

He looked from one girl to the other. “The problem is that no one can confirm what happened.”

Mrs. Bennett nodded. “The class were questioned before we came here. None of them actually saw Miss Wilson trip Miss Carter.”

Claire looked ready to argue again but forced herself to stay quiet.

Mr. Harrison rested both hands on his desk. “Whether Miss Wilson tripped Miss Carter intentionally or not…”

He paused.

“…the fact remains that the two of you started a physical fight in the middle of my school.”

Neither Claire nor Alma spoke.

“You both know that’s unacceptable.”

He picked up a disciplinary form. “Both of you will serve one afternoon of detention after classes today.”

Claire exhaled through her nose. “…Yes, sir.”

Alma answered a moment later. “…Understood.”

Mr. Harrison turned to me, his expression softening. “As for you, Miss Carter…”

He glanced at my scraped hands before looking at the broken glasses again. “I’d like the nurse to clean those cuts.”

He slid a hall pass across the desk. “And after that, you may go home early.”

My eyes widened. “Sir?”

“You can’t attend the rest of your classes without your prescription glasses.”

He gave me a small, understanding smile. “I’ll have the attendance office excuse you for the day.”

My heart sank. “…Yes, sir.”

The cuts on my hands would heal. But replacing my glasses…that was another problem entirely.

Mrs. Bennett led me out of the principal’s office while Claire and Alma remained behind to sign their detention slips.

Claire looked over her shoulder. “Jacqueline—”

“I’ll be okay,” I said softly.

She didn’t look convinced. “I’ll meet you after detention.”

I managed a small smile. “…Okay.”

The office door closed behind them.

Mrs. Bennett looked at me. “Can you manage to the nurse’s office?”

I blinked through the blur. “I think so.”

Without another word, she slowed her pace so I could walk beside her.

A few minutes later…

The school nurse looked up as we entered. “What happened?”

Mrs. Bennett placed my broken glasses on the desk. “She had a fall.”

The nurse’s eyes softened immediately. “Oh, sweetheart.”

She motioned toward the examination bed. “Come and sit.”

I obeyed.

She gently cleaned the scrapes on my palms.

The antiseptic stung.

I winced.

“I know,” she said sympathetically. “Just a little longer.”

When she finished, she wrapped small adhesive bandages around both hands.

“There.” She smiled. “Nothing serious.”

Then her gaze shifted to my glasses. “…Those are another story.”

I stared at the broken frame. One lens had shattered completely. The other was cracked from top to bottom. The bridge had snapped in half.

The nurse picked them up carefully. “I don’t think these can be repaired.”

My chest tightened. “I figured.”

“You have another pair at home?”

I hesitated. “…No.”

Mrs. Bennett looked at me. “No spare?”

I shook my head. “My prescription changes almost every year.”

The room fell quiet.

Mrs. Bennett exchanged a glance with the nurse. “Can you see at all?”

“A little.”

“How little?”

I looked around the room.

Everything farther than a few feet dissolved into soft shapes and blurred outlines.

“I can tell where people are.” I gave an embarrassed laugh. “I just can’t tell who they are.”

The nurse frowned. “You shouldn’t be walking around campus like that.”

Mrs. Bennett nodded. “I’ll call your mother.”

“No!” The word escaped before I could stop it.

Both women looked at me.

Heat rushed to my face. “I mean… she’s working. I don’t want to interrupt her.”

Mrs. Bennett’s expression softened.

“She’d rather leave work than have you wandering home unable to see.”

I lowered my head. “…You’re right.”

She picked up the office phone. “I’ll give her a call.”

—-

About twenty minutes later…

A familiar voice echoed from the reception area. “Jacky”