I also saw that black sedan.
That dark window rolling down.
That engine humming.
And I knew what I had to do.
“I can’t promise that,” I said.
Her face crumpled.
“But I can promise I will tell the truth with kindness.”
She turned and ran off the bus.
For the next hour, I kept seeing her face.
The betrayal in it.
The fear.
I knew some people would say I should have stayed out of it.
I knew others would say I should have called her father immediately and let consequences fall where they may.
That is the thing about protecting children.
Everyone agrees with it until it means making a decision that might make a child angry at you.
At 10:30, my phone buzzed.
It was Mr. Harlan.
“Can you come back to the yard after your midday route?”
“Why?”
“There’s going to be a meeting.”
“With who?”
