Chapter 6 - The Mother Enters
Governor Eleanor Carter walked through the cafeteria doors, surrounded by six agents.
The rhythmic clatter of their tactical boots echoed across the silent room like gunshots.
Brianna dropped Emily’s cracked phone onto the linoleum; it cracked further with a sharp snap.
Governor Carter ignored the headmaster, ignored the frozen teachers, and ignored the gaping crowd.
Her gaze swept across the floor until it locked onto the corner table.
She saw the broken ceramic bowl.
She saw the brown gravy soaking the collar of the olive-green jacket.
She saw the red welts on her daughter’s scalp where hair had been ripped from the roots.
Eleanor broke into an urgent, graceful stride.
She knelt directly on the dirty dining hall floor, heedless of the mess, and pulled Emily into her chest.
“I’m here, baby,” Eleanor whispered softly, kissing Emily’s forehead.
“I told you to call me the very first time she touched you.”
“I wanted to finish the semester, Mom,” Emily whispered back, her voice shaking slightly now.
“I wanted to get the data on Thorne’s offshore account before they wiped the servers.”
Eleanor smoothed Emily’s hair with a mother’s gentle, protective hand.
“You did enough, sweetheart. You gave us everything the Attorney General needed.”
Eleanor stood up.
The warmth vanished from her face instantly, replaced by the lethal demeanor of a head of state.
She turned her eyes upon Brianna Vance.
Brianna shrank back, her shoulder bumping into a concrete pillar.
“Brianna Vance,” Eleanor said, her voice quiet but piercing through the silence.
“You thought my daughter was an orphan from the projects.”
“You thought you could break her bones and humiliate her dignity because you believed no one loved her enough to fight back.”
“I... I didn’t know,” Brianna sobbed, real tears smearing her mascara down her cheeks.
“I swear, Governor Carter, it was an accident! We were just joking around!”
“You shoved my daughter’s face into scalding food, child,” Eleanor said.
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“In my state, that is second-degree aggravated assault.”
“And this school,” Eleanor turned her blazing eyes onto Headmaster Harold Thorne, “is an accessory after the fact.”
