part 3
Part 3
Twenty minutes later I was sitting in the principal's conference room with two police officers.
Officer Ramirez placed a recorder on the table.
“Mrs. Brennan,” he said carefully, “we need a formal statement.”
I nodded.
Across the hall, Emma sat with the counselor and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
Every few seconds I could hear her crying.
Each sound made my jaw tighten.
Principal Hoffman opened a folder.
“There were six witnesses.”
I looked up.
“Six?”
He nodded.
“Three students. Two teachers. One janitor.”
Jessica hadn't even bothered hiding what she'd done.
Officer Ramirez exchanged a look with his partner.
“There's more.”
My stomach dropped.
He slid several papers across the table.
“These complaints were filed over the last two years.”
I started reading.
A child locked in a supply closet.
Another publicly humiliated during rehearsal.
A third accused of cheating without evidence.
Every report involved Jessica.
Every report had been dismissed as "misunderstandings."
My vision blurred.
“How many?”
Hoffman swallowed.
“Seven documented incidents.”
Seven.
Seven children.
And nobody had stopped her.
Because she was loud.
Connected.
Manipulative.
Because whenever parents complained, Jessica cried.
And my parents defended her.
Just like always.
My phone rang.
Mom.
I answered.
Big mistake.
“Natalie, what have you done?” she screamed before I could speak.
I closed my eyes.
“Emma was assaulted.”
“She cut a little hair!”
“A little—”
“She was upset about Lily!”
I looked at Officer Ramirez.
He was listening now.
“Mom,” I said quietly, “Jessica locked my daughter in a room.”
“She didn't mean it.”
“She attacked an eight-year-old.”
Silence.
Then the words that ended everything.
“Blood should come first.”
I laughed.
A terrible laugh.
“Emma is my blood.”
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My mother hung up.
Ten minutes later, Jessica was arrested at her house.
