Chapter 7: The Photograph Outside the School
Dr. Brooks stared at the anonymous photograph.
Emily was wearing her blue backpack.
Her injured right hand was tucked against her chest.
The picture had been taken that morning, just outside Brookstone Middle School.
Someone had been watching her.
Daniel Reeves leaned over her desk.
“Where did that come from?””
“An anonymous number.””
“Can we trace it?””
“We're trying.””
Dr. Brooks enlarged the photograph.
There was something reflected in the glass entrance behind Emily.
A dark vehicle.
A silver sedan.
Daniel recognized it immediately.
“That's Whitmore's car.””
Dr. Brooks looked up.
“Are you certain?””
“I've seen him drive it every morning for three years.””
She stared at the photograph again.
The vehicle was parked across the street, facing the school entrance.
“Call the district security office,” she instructed.
Daniel picked up his phone.
But Dr. Brooks was already dialing Rachel.
Rachel was preparing lunch when her phone rang.
Emily was sitting at the kitchen island, attempting to complete a reading assignment using her left hand.
“Mom, I can't make my handwriting look normal.””
Rachel placed a sandwich on a plate.
“That's okay. Your teacher can read it.””
“But it looks like a first grader wrote it.””
Rachel smiled.
“Then your teacher will know you've been practicing with your other hand.””
Emily laughed softly.
It was the first genuine laugh Rachel had heard from her daughter in days.
Then the phone vibrated.
“Hello?””
“Mrs. Parker, it's Dr. Brooks. I need you to listen carefully.””
Rachel's smile disappeared.
“What happened?””
“We received a photograph of Emily entering the school this morning.””
Rachel looked at her daughter.
“What do you mean?””
“Someone took a picture of her and sent it to my phone anonymously.””
Rachel's stomach tightened.
“Why would someone do that?””
“We don't know yet. But the message accompanying it suggested that you stop asking questions.””
Rachel gripped the counter.
“Are you telling me someone is threatening my child?””
“I'm telling you we're treating it as a potential safety concern. Please don't let Emily travel to or from school alone.””
Rachel looked through the kitchen window.
The street was quiet.
A delivery truck passed.
Nothing seemed unusual.
But suddenly, every parked car looked suspicious.
“Does the principal know?””
“Mr. Whitmore is aware that we're investigating the school records. I haven't shared this photograph with him.””
“Good.””
Rachel paused.
“Dr. Brooks, I want my daughter transferred out of that school.””
“We can discuss immediate alternative arrangements.””
“No. I want her away from Mrs. Carlson, away from Whitmore, and away from anyone involved.””
“I understand.””
Rachel ended the call.
Emily looked up.
“Mom?””
Rachel walked over and kissed her forehead.
“Finish your lunch, sweetheart. We're going to make a few changes.””
At 2:00 p.m., Principal Whitmore entered the district conference room.
He was carrying a leather briefcase.
His expression was calm.
Too calm.
Dr. Brooks sat across from him with Daniel beside her.
“Thank you for coming,” she said.
Whitmore placed his briefcase on the table.
“I assume this concerns Mrs. Carlson.””
“It concerns several matters.””
“Such as?””
Dr. Brooks slid the anonymous photograph toward him.
Whitmore looked at it.
His face remained still.
“Where did you get this?””
“Someone sent it to me.””
He examined the image.
Then placed it back.
“Perhaps a concerned parent.””
“Why would a concerned parent send a photograph of an injured student with a message telling investigators to stop asking questions?””
Whitmore shrugged.
“I can't speak for anonymous individuals.””
Daniel opened a folder.
“Your vehicle appears in the reflection.””
Whitmore looked up.
“Are you accusing me of following a child?””
“Were you parked outside the school this morning?””
“I visit the school every day.””
“Was this photograph taken from your vehicle?””
Whitmore closed his briefcase.
“I don't appreciate the tone of this meeting.””
Dr. Brooks leaned forward.
“Then answer the questions.””
Whitmore stood.
“I believe this discussion should take place with legal counsel present.””
“That's your right.””
He picked up his briefcase.
Before leaving, he turned toward Dr. Brooks.
“You're making a mistake by turning a classroom incident into a district scandal.””
Dr. Brooks met his eyes.
“The classroom incident was only the beginning.””
Whitmore walked out.
Daniel waited until the door closed.
Then he whispered:
“He knows something.””
Dr. Brooks nodded.
“And I think he knows we found the donor spreadsheet.””
That evening, Rachel received another call.
This time, it was from Emily's father, Michael.
He and Rachel had been divorced for two years, but they maintained a cooperative relationship.
“Rachel, I heard what happened.””
“Who told you?””
“Emily called me.””
Rachel glanced toward the living room.
Emily was watching television.
“She's been through enough already.””
“I know. That's why I'm calling.””
Michael paused.
“I want to take her to my place for a few days.””
Rachel considered it.
Michael lived in a neighboring town, away from Brookstone.
“That might be a good idea.””
“I'll come tomorrow morning.””
After they hung up, Rachel sat beside Emily.
“Your dad wants you to spend a few days with him.””
Emily smiled faintly.
“Can I bring my sketchbook?””
“Of course.””
Then Emily's expression changed.
“Mom?””
“Yes?””
“Do you think Mrs. Carlson hates me?””
Rachel took a moment before answering.
“I don't think what happened was your fault. Not one little bit.””
Emily looked at her bandaged hand.
“Then why did she choose me?””
Rachel pulled her close.
She didn't have an answer.
But somewhere across town, somebody had just sent another message.
This one went to Principal Whitmore.
*The mother is still cooperating with the district. You need to fix this before Friday.*
Whitmore read it twice.
Then he replied.
*I already told you. Carlson was supposed to handle the child.*
And the response came almost immediately.
*Then perhaps we should discuss what happens when Carlson starts talking.*
May you like
Whitmore stared at the screen.
For the first time, he looked afraid.
