She placed my phone inside her desk drawer.
“You can explain yourself to Principal Harris.”
My fear turned into relief.
Principal Harris.
Good.
Maybe that was exactly where this needed to go.
Mrs. Baxter returned to the board.
Ten minutes passed.
Then somebody knocked on the classroom door.
Mrs. Baxter sighed.
“Yes?”
The door opened.
Principal Harris stood there.
Beside him was the school nurse.
And behind them was my mother.
My heart nearly stopped.
Mom never came to school during the day.
She worked forty minutes away.
Mrs. Baxter’s face changed.
Principal Harris looked around the room.
Then his eyes went to Malik.
“Malik.”
Malik looked up.
“Come with the nurse, please.”
Mrs. Baxter stepped forward.
“There’s no need for that.”
Principal Harris stared at her.
“I wasn’t speaking to you.”
Every student looked up.
Malik slowly stood.
The nurse saw his hand.
Her expression changed immediately.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
Mrs. Baxter crossed her arms.
“He was disciplined.”
Mom looked at her.
“With a ruler?”
Mrs. Baxter froze.
My mother held up her phone.
On the screen was my photo.
It showed Mrs. Baxter standing over Malik.
The ruler was raised.
Malik’s face was twisted in pain.
His palm was red.
Principal Harris turned toward Mrs. Baxter.
“Is this what happened?”
She stared at the phone.
“Emily violated the school phone policy.”
Mom laughed once.
Not because anything was funny.
“You’re worried about a phone?”
“She secretly photographed me.”
“She photographed you hitting a child.”
Mrs. Baxter looked around desperately.
“This is being taken completely out of context.”
Then Malik spoke.
“No, it isn’t.”
Mrs. Baxter spun toward him.
“Quiet.”
Principal Harris’s voice sharpened.
“Do not speak to him like that.”
That was the first moment I saw fear in Mrs. Baxter’s eyes.
Real fear.
Principal Harris stepped inside.
“Mrs. Baxter, give me Emily’s phone.”
She hesitated.
“Now.”
She opened the desk drawer.
He took it.
Then he looked at the class.
“Nobody is leaving this room until another teacher arrives.”
Mrs. Baxter’s face went pale.
“Principal Harris—”
“You need to come with me.”
“This is ridiculous.”
He lowered his voice.
“Patricia.”
She stopped.
Then he said the words none of us expected.
“You are being removed from this classroom effective immediately.”
Malik stared at me.
I stared back.
My mother squeezed my shoulder.
I thought it was over.
I thought one photograph had exposed everything.
I was wrong.
Because as Mrs. Baxter walked toward the door, Jamal suddenly stood.
“Wait.”
Everyone turned.
He was holding his phone.
His hand was shaking.
“I have something too.”
Mrs. Baxter stopped.
Jamal looked at Principal Harris.
“I recorded what she said before Emily took the picture.”
Mrs. Baxter went completely still.
And that was when I realized the photo I sent my mother was only the beginning.
The teacher who had complained was named Ms. Elena Ramirez.
She no longer worked at Westbrook.
That immediately bothered my mother.
“Why did she leave?”
Dr. Lawson closed the folder.
“We are reviewing that.”
Aisha leaned forward.
“That was not my question.”
Dr. Lawson nodded.
“She resigned.”
“Why?”
“According to personnel records, she cited a hostile work environment.”
Principal Harris shifted in his chair.
I noticed.
So did Mom.
“What does that have to do with you?” Mom asked him.
“Nothing.”
His answer came too fast.
Dr. Lawson looked at him.
“Mr. Harris, perhaps you should allow me to handle this.”
His face tightened.
That was the first time I realized the investigation might include him too.
Malik sat beside me.
His injured hand rested in his lap.
He looked exhausted.
I whispered, “You okay?”
“No.”
I appreciated the honesty.
Neither of us was okay.
Dr. Lawson explained that the district would interview students, parents, teachers, and administrators.
Mrs. Baxter remained suspended.
Principal Harris would stay temporarily, but another administrator would supervise the investigation.
Aisha laughed bitterly.
“So the man who knew about complaints stays in charge?”
“Not of this matter.”
“He is still in the building.”
Dr. Lawson looked uncomfortable.
“I understand your concern.”
“No,” Aisha said. “You understand my words. That is not the same thing.”
I glanced at Malik.
He smiled slightly.
His mother was terrifying.
In a good way.
School felt different afterward.
Everyone knew.
Some students treated Malik like a celebrity.
He hated it.
Other students whispered that he had gotten Mrs. Baxter fired.
She had not even been fired yet.
A boy from our class named Connor said it during lunch.
“Hope you’re happy.”
Malik looked up.
“With what?”
“Mrs. Baxter losing her job.”
My chair scraped backward.
“Seriously?”
Connor shrugged.
“She was strict, but she wasn’t that bad.”
Malik stared at him.
“She hit me.”
“You probably made her mad.”
I stood.
My hands shook.
“Don’t.”
Connor looked at me.
“What?”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why?”
