“We were writing it all down. I told her that if she reported it clearly — dates, names, specific incidents — the school would have to respond. We were drafting a formal complaint.”
Emily wiped her face with her sleeve. “I was going to send it. Eventually.”
“When?” I asked.
She didn’t answer.
Mark rubbed the back of his neck. “I know I should have called you. I picked up the phone so many times. But she begged me not to. I didn’t want her to feel like I was choosing your side over hers. I wanted her to have one place where she felt safe.”
“This isn’t about sides, Mark. This is about parenting. We have to be the adults, even when they’re mad at us.”
“I know,” he said softly.
And I believed him. He looked like a man who saw his daughter drowning and grabbed the first rope within reach — even if it was frayed.
