Chapter 8 - Everybody Has an OpinionBy Monday morning, Jefferson Ridge Middle School had become two schools.
The official one displayed banners about respect.
The real one existed in group chats.
Some students wrote:
FIRE DALTON.
Others:
WAIT FOR FACTS.
Another post said:
KIARA’S MOM IS A COP. OF COURSE THE SCHOOL IS SCARED.
Kiara read that one twice.
At breakfast, Renee noticed.
“Stop reading.”
“That easy?”
“No.”
Renee held out her hand.
“Give me the phone for ten minutes.”
Kiara almost argued.
Then handed it over.
At school, a boy from seventh grade approached.
“My dad says you should sue.”
Kiara stared.
“For what?”
He shrugged.
Apparently he had not thought further.
Ethan met her near the lockers.
“There’s a Dalton Defense page.”
“I know.”
“They're saying you were fighting her.”
“I know.”
“They're saying your mom threatened the school.”
Kiara stopped.
“What?”
“Some parent posted it.”
Renee had done the opposite.
She had stepped away from the police investigation entirely.
Sergeant Ellis documented it.
Another detective handled the criminal referral.
But truth traveled slower than rumor.
Ethan said:
“We should post proof.”
“No.”
“The whole video would shut them up.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m in it.”
Ethan went quiet.
Kiara shut her locker.
“You got to be the person who recorded.”
Ethan looked confused.
“And I’m the girl with her head near the trash.”
His expression changed.
“I didn't think about that.”
“I know.”
“I'm sorry.”
Kiara walked away.
“I know.”
That was almost worse.
Across campus, Principal Whitfield faced a district meeting.
Superintendent Karen Mills sat at the head of the table.
Assistant Principal Pike’s facility approvals were spread before them.
District finance director Owen Clark spoke.
“We found thirty-six unbilled room uses.”
“How much in avoided facility fees?”
“Approximately $4,680.”
Not a fortune.
Enough to matter.
“Any evidence Pike received money?”
“No.”
“Any evidence he knew parents paid Dalton?”
“Yes.”
Whitfield looked up.
“How?”
An email.
Mrs. Dalton to Pike:
Thank you again for helping me keep the student-support sessions in Room 214. Parents are much more willing to pay when the program remains on campus.
Pike’s response:
Understood. Just keep the school out of billing.
The room fell silent.
Superintendent Mills read it again.
“Keep the school out of billing.”
Whitfield looked sick.
Pike had known.
Not necessarily everything.
But enough.
The district expanded its review.
That afternoon Renee met Detective Samuel Ortega, the officer assigned to the criminal side.
They sat in a neutral conference room.
“You understand I can't discuss the case with you as a colleague.”
“I know.”
“You’re here as Kiara’s mother.”
“I know.”
“You can't access reports through police systems.”
“I know.”
Ortega watched her.
“You hate this.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She almost laughed.
He continued.
“Because if you didn't, I'd worry.”
The prosecutor had not decided charges.
The video showed force.
Witnesses supported Kiara.
But definitions mattered.
Intent mattered.
Degree of injury mattered.
Renee nodded.
She understood all of that.
Still, the mother in her wanted someone to say:
This was wrong.
Immediately.
Without qualifiers.
At home, Kiara found Renee sitting in the dark kitchen.
“Mom?”
Renee looked up.
“You okay?”
“Are you?”
Kiara sat.
For once, neither tried to protect the other with a quick yes.
Renee said:
“I keep thinking about you telling Dalton about Mason and Lily.”
Kiara looked down.
“I gave her information she used against you.”
“No.”
“You trusted your teacher.”
“That isn't your mistake.”
Renee swallowed.
Kiara leaned against her shoulder.
Then Renee’s phone rang.
Naomi Grant.
“We found another list.”
“What list?”
“Students Mrs. Dalton recommended out of advanced classes.”
Kiara listened.
Every student marked Resistant appeared on it.
Including Brianna.
Including Daniel after he stopped paying.
May you like
And three names whose families had never filed complaints.
The money trail had just become an academic trail.
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