Part 3
The first-aid room was small, with a vinyl examination table, a sink, and a cabinet of supplies. Rachel removed a stack of folded event T-shirts from the chair.
“I’ll wait outside.”
“Thank you.”
Rachel closed the door.
Lena sat on the examination table and pulled Micah between her knees.
He stared at the floor.
“Can I look now?”
He nodded.
She rolled the cuff slowly.
The fabric had a brown crescent where the metal touched it. Beneath it, the skin was red and tender but unbroken.
Micah watched her face rather than his wrist.
She kept her expression controlled.
“It looks small,” he said.
“It is small.”
“So I’m okay.”
“You can be okay and still be hurt.”
He looked away.
Lena ran cool water over a clean cloth and laid it gently against the skin. Micah flinched.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“No. You don’t have to say that.”
He swallowed.
For the first time since she reached him, tears moved over his lower lashes.
“I didn’t take it.”
“I know.”
“He said people like me get chances and ruin them.”
Lena’s hand stopped.
“What exactly did he say?”
Micah’s shoulders rose.
“I don’t remember.”
“That’s all right.”
“I do remember.”
“You don’t have to tell me yet.”
“He said the club made a mistake.”
Lena looked at the wet cloth in her hand.
The room became very quiet.
Outside, someone walked quickly down the corridor. A door opened and closed.
Micah stared at the cabinet.
“Are they going to take away my scholarship?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you did nothing wrong.”
“That doesn’t mean they won’t.”
The answer frightened her more than the burn.
At nine, Micah already understood that innocence did not guarantee safety inside institutions that considered him fortunate to be present.
Lena replaced the cloth.
“They will not take it away,” she said.
He looked at her.
This time she made it a promise, though she did not yet know whether she had the authority to keep it.
A knock came at the door.
Rachel spoke from the corridor.
“The emergency crew is here.”
Two paramedics entered. One was a woman with dark hair tied in a low knot; the other was a young man carrying a medical bag. They spoke gently to Micah, asked permission before touching his wrist, and treated the burn with cool sterile dressings.
The injury was superficial.
They recommended follow-up care and advised Lena to watch for blistering or increased pain.
Micah answered questions in a low voice.
The female paramedic asked whether he felt safe returning to the picnic.
He shook his head.
“Then you don’t go back.”
The certainty in her tone softened something in him.
A police dispatcher had been notified because an adult had intentionally injured a child. An officer would contact Lena, but none arrived while the paramedics were there.
That seemed to disappoint Rachel and relieve her at the same time.
When the medical team left, Rachel remained in the corridor holding a clipboard she did not need.
“Lena, the club president wants to speak with you before you go.”
“No.”
“I understand, but he would like to assure you that—”
“No.”
Rachel pressed the clipboard against her chest.
“He is concerned.”
“He can be concerned later.”
“He asked me to tell you Wallace has been removed from the event area.”
“By whom?”
“Daniel and two board members.”
“Where is he?”
“In the treasurer’s office.”
“Does he still have his phone?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does he have access to the security system?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does he have access to scholarship records?”
Rachel’s face changed.
“I don’t know.”
Lena picked up her handbag.
“Find out.”
Rachel nodded.
Micah slid off the examination table.
His legs seemed unsteady. Lena took his uninjured hand.
“Is Daniel still here?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I want his video copied before anyone at this club touches his phone.”
Rachel hesitated.
“That may need to go through the board.”
“No.”
“Lena—”
“The man who hurt my child is your treasurer. Your board does not get the only copy.”
Rachel looked down.
“I’ll ask Daniel.”
“Tell him I asked.”
They left through the side doors.
The charity picnic had quieted. Music from a small speaker had been turned off. Guests stood in groups near the tables, watching without appearing to watch.
Several people looked at Micah’s bandaged wrist.
No one approached.
Lena felt his fingers tighten around hers.
“Keep looking at me,” she said.
He did.
They crossed the lawn toward the parking area.
Near the low hedge, Daniel waited with his phone held at his side. Evelyn stood beside him, no longer carrying the tray.
Daniel approached carefully.
“Mrs. Reed.”
“Lena.”
“Lena. I have the video.”
“Did anyone ask you to delete it?”
“Mr. Alden.”
“What did you say?”
“No.”
“Anyone else?”
“The club president asked me not to distribute it until the board reviewed what happened.”
Lena laughed once, without humor.
“What did you say?”
“That I would give it to you.”
She studied him.
Daniel had soil beneath one thumbnail. A faint red mark crossed his forearm from working near the grill. He looked calm, but his jaw remained tight.
“Why were you filming?”
He explained the dispute over the grill flare. Alden had blamed maintenance for a problem caused by grease buildup. Daniel had started recording the grill area to document that the equipment had not been serviced according to schedule.
“Did you record before he grabbed Micah?”
“Yes. About two minutes.”
“Does it show the pin?”
“The napkin covers it. But it shows Micah walking over for ketchup. He does not touch Alden’s place setting.”
“Can you send it now?”
Daniel opened the file.
“It’s large.”
“Email, message, cloud link. Anything.”
He tried sending it directly, but the club’s guest wireless connection was slow. Lena turned on a personal hotspot.
The upload began.
Evelyn stood a few feet away, arms folded around herself.
“Mrs. Reed,” she said.
Lena looked at her.
May you like
“I should have stopped him.”
“Yes.”
