Chapter 2 - The Plan With My Name
The glass broke at Tiffany's feet. Nobody moved to pick it up. The Thursday had changed in forty seconds.
"June," Tiffany said, voice sharp, "we agreed this wasn't the place."
"We agreed Greg needed to understand," June answered. "I thought he already did."
I moved Maya behind me, away from the shards. "What plan?"
June opened a canvas folder. Inside was a two-page document headed FAMILY SUPPORT ARRANGEMENT. It listed Maya as a student who benefited from "structured domestic routines" and "reduced extracurricular demands." Under a line marked PARENT ACKNOWLEDGMENT was a typed name: Gregory Mercer. A digital checkbox indicated consent.
"You approved this during a conference call on September fifteenth," June said.
"I was in Denver on September fifteenth. I spent fourteen hours at a warehouse inspection. Check my calendar."
Tiffany stepped closer. "Greg, you were exhausted. We discussed it on speakerphone."
"No. We did not."
Maya flinched at my raised voice. I lowered it.
"Honey, take a seat in the kitchen where I can see you. Don't touch the glass."
"I haven't finished the grout," she said.
"It can wait forever."
She looked at Tiffany for permission. I will remember that look longer than I remember the glass breaking.
After Maya went to the kitchen, I read the document again. The school had not ordered her to clean floors. It was an informal support agreement, but it had been used to excuse her from orchestra practice and approve early pickups. I had never known she'd stopped going to orchestra. When I asked about rehearsal, she'd said she was tired. Tiffany had said the program was disorganized. I'd nodded and answered my work email.
"Who submitted it?" I asked.
June's eyes shifted toward Tiffany. "The online portal shows the request came from the household contact account. Tiffany is listed as the primary contact."
"I manage school paperwork," Tiffany said. "That's not a crime."
"It isn't what you told me," June said quietly. "You said Greg demanded it."
Tiffany laughed without humor. "A child's grades are slipping. I try to help, and now I'm on trial?"
"Maya's grades aren't slipping," June said. "She has an A in my class."
There was a silence. Then June opened her folder to a page of handwriting.
May you like
"She wrote an essay last week," she said. "It explains why she stopped coming to orchestra. Greg, there are things in it I think you need to hear."
Tiffany lunged for the folder.
