Cal shook his head. “Sir, cameras don’t fix judgment.”
That was the problem in one sentence.
I went back to the kitchen.
Ms. Beverly had made hot chocolate and cut strawberries nobody was touching. June sat in Mara’s lap under a throw blanket. Lily sat straight-backed at the table, the way adults do when they’re trying not to fall apart.
I pulled out a chair and sat with them.
“No one’s in trouble,” I said.
Neither girl moved.
“I need the truth from both of you. Not the version you thought I wanted. The truth.”
Lily looked at Mara first. Mara gave one small nod.
“She was only mean when you left,” Lily said. “Or when she thought nobody could hear.”
June whispered, “She took Bunny away a lot.”
That nearly did me in. The rabbit. Not because of the toy itself, but because it was such a child’s version of control. Remove the comfort object. Watch the child panic. Repeat until obedience looks natural.
