“Excuse me, Ma’am,” she said, her voice trembling. “Do you have an appointment? Principal Higgins is in a meeting with a VIP donor.”
I didn’t stop walking. “I don’t need an appointment,” I said, my voice flat. I shoved the door open, and it slammed against the wall with a loud thud, announcing my arrival.
The scene inside was exactly what I expected—a tableau of arrogance.
Principal Higgins was practically bowing to Richard Sterling, who sat comfortably in the Principal’s leather chair, feet kicked up on the mahogany desk. He was sipping coffee from a delicate china cup, his smug smile as polished as his $5,000 suit. Max sat on the sofa, playing his Nintendo Switch with the volume cranked up, completely oblivious to the world around him.
The second Richard looked up and saw me, his smirk widened, his eyes narrowing in recognition.
“Well, well,” he chuckled, taking another sip of coffee. “I heard your kid took a tumble. Clumsy. Just like her mother used to be.”
His words, sharp and dismissive, were meant to cut. They were meant to remind me of the past—the semester we spent together in law school before he’d dumped me for a richer, more polished heiress. But I didn’t flinch. I kept my expression neutral, even though the memories of his rejection and the way he’d belittled me burned like acid in my chest.
He turned to Principal Higgins, who stood nervously by the desk, clearly trying to placate his benefactor. “See, Higgins? This is exactly what I was talking about. You let in these scholarship cases, these single moms, and all you get is drama. They trip over their own feet and then look for a payout.”
I could feel my teeth grinding together, but I said nothing. Richard’s words were aimed at me, but I couldn’t let him see the effect they were having. I focused on Max, the boy who had hurt my daughter.
“Max,” I said, my voice steady and clear. “Did you push Lily down the stairs?”
