Jenna’s face crumpled.
Letty turned pink. “I just didn’t want Millie hiding in the bathroom at lunch anymore.”
Millie looked at her.
“I hate that bathroom,” she said.
“I know, Millie,” Letty said.
“Our family fought cancer too.”
***
Then the men started talking over each other, Jonathan covering shifts, keeping Letty’s drawings in his locker, taking my baking to work and pretending he’d made it.
“That man couldn’t bake,” I said.
“We knew,” Marcus said. “We respected the lie.”
Then Letty asked, “Did he talk about me a lot?”
Luis answered first. “Every day.”
“Even when he got really sick?”
“Especially then.”
Millie reached over and took Letty’s hand.
“That man couldn’t bake.”
For the first time since the funeral, grief didn’t feel like a locked room. It felt like a door opening.
I stood up and wiped my face.
“All right,” I said. “We are not turning Letty into a school mascot for kindness.”
Then I looked at Mr. Brennan. “But this school is going to do more than cry in an office for ten minutes and move on. Millie is in remission, not untouched. Those boys need consequences, and every child here needs to learn what happened to her matters.”
He straightened. “Their parents are already on the way, and the boys are suspended from activities until we finish the review. And we’ll start something bigger.”
“Those boys need consequences.”
