I repeated the phrase, then looked directly at my son.
“You hit a girl, Ethan.”
He shrugged, a dismissive gesture he had copied from his father.
“She started it. She’s some crazy girl from that group home next door. She came after me. She attacked me.”
Mr. Davies cleared his throat.
“The situation is more complex. The girl, Valerie, is from the St. Jude’s Home for Children. She comes for some of our after-school activities. According to several witnesses, Ethan and a few of his friends have been, let’s say, bothering a group of younger girls. Insults, taking their lunch, that sort of thing. Valerie intervened. And yes, she did throw the first punch, but it was in defense of another girl whom Ethan was pushing.”
My voice was a threat of ice.
“Bullying, you mean?”
The headmaster adjusted his glasses.
“We are investigating previous complaints from some of the girls. They hadn’t been formally filed. Out of fear. Today it all boiled over.”
