Chương 7
“I am supporting it.”
The interview lasted seventy minutes.
At the end, Sabine asked Elise to surrender her work phone and laptop for preservation of communications related to the incident. Elise agreed after Marc recorded the condition of both devices.
She was then placed on paid administrative leave.
The words felt detached from their meaning until Sabine asked for her residence keys.
Elise removed the ring from her pocket. It contained keys to the junior corridor, medicine cupboard, linen room, fire panel, staff entrance, and room fourteen, which had a lock that jammed during damp weather. The ring weighed less than she expected when she placed it on the desk.
“Am I considered a risk to the children?” she asked.
“No,” Sabine said.
“Then why can’t I return to the residence?”
“Because you are a central witness, and the school must prevent allegations that you influenced Anouk or other students.”
“I have supervised her for four months.”
“I know.”
“She asked me to stay.”
“I know.”
Nadine would take Anouk home within the hour. Elise had no legitimate reason to remain after that. Still, the removal felt like a punishment delivered under clean administrative language.
Dutoit stood and buttoned his coat.
At the door, he looked back. “For what it is worth, Mr. Halden denies intending harm.”
Elise picked up her empty key hand. “For what it is worth, Anouk never claimed he struck her.”
The lawyer left.
Marianne remained seated.
“The south residence would have housed sixty-four pupils,” she said. “Forty-two on partial or full aid.”
Marc shifted beside Elise. “What does that have to do with whether he grabbed a child?”
“Nothing,” Marianne said. “And everything that happens next.”
Sabine closed the office door after the vice-chair departed.
For a while, only the three employees remained.
Marc asked whether Elise wanted him to accompany her while she packed.
“I live in staff housing,” she said. “Am I being removed from that too?”
Sabine’s face tightened. “No. Your leave concerns duties, not accommodation.”
“That is generous.”
“Elise.”
The headmistress waited until Marc quietly left the office.
“I did not authorize Dutoit to question you.”
“You let him.”
“The legal committee required it.”
“You chair the school.”
“I direct the school. The trust owns it.”
“Children do not care about the distinction.”
“No. Adults must.”
Sabine pushed the stubborn drawer again. This time it opened suddenly, rattling the pens inside.
She took out a sealed envelope.
“This is a copy of the note you wrote last night. The original was delivered to Sergeant Rochat at six forty-eight. Her receipt is attached.”
Elise accepted it.
“Why are you helping me?”
“I am not helping you.”
“Then what are you doing?”
Sabine sat down.
“When I was appointed headmistress, Victor was thirty-four and had just inherited his father’s seat on the trust. The school had six weeks of operating cash. He persuaded two banks to wait. He called former pupils who hated being asked for money and made them thank him for the opportunity. He gave up a year of his own compensation from the foundation. People here still have jobs because he refused to let the school fail.”
Elise said nothing.
“He also humiliates people when frightened. He confuses rescue with ownership. Until last night, I told myself that was a management problem.”
“You knew he had a temper.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know he touched people?”
Sabine looked toward the window. “A former development assistant complained that he held her elbow during an argument. She withdrew the complaint before a formal inquiry.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
“Why did she withdraw it?”
“She accepted another position.”
“That is not an answer.”
“No,” Sabine said. “It is the answer I allowed myself.”
The headmistress pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, then lowered them.
“I placed you on leave because the board would otherwise accuse me of protecting my preferred witness. I supported preserving the footage. I opposed giving Dutoit access to the original server. I failed on one of those three matters.”
“Which one?”
“He will receive supervised access through an independent technician this afternoon.”
“Can he alter it?”
“No. The police copy and protected archive remain separate.”
“Then what are you afraid of?”
Sabine looked at her directly. “Context.”
The word had become ugly.
“The recording shows what happened,” Elise said.
“It shows part of what happened. Victor’s defense will be that Anouk entered a restricted room, damaged time-sensitive documents worth millions, attempted to run, and was physically stopped for her own safety. He will say the folder was lifted away from spilled water, not raised as a weapon.”
“He followed her into reception.”
“Yes.”
“He leaned toward her.”
“Yes.”
“She was afraid.”
“Yes.”
“Why are we still speaking as if the right explanation could make his hand disappear from her wrist?”
“Because institutions do not decide what occurred by moral clarity alone.”
“They should.”
“They should decide carefully.”
Elise stood.
Sabine’s voice softened. “Careful is not always cowardly.”
“No. But cowardly is often careful.”
She regretted the sentence as soon as it left her. It was too neat, too final, the kind of line people remembered instead of the conversation around it.
Sabine’s expression hardened.
“Return to your apartment,” she said. “Do not contact students or staff witnesses. The school will notify you regarding the independent review.”
Elise left without apologizing.
Her apartment occupied the top floor of a stone staff cottage behind the chapel. It had two rooms, sloping ceilings, and a view of the lake interrupted by cedar branches. She had moved there in September with four boxes of books, two winter coats, and a coffee machine that leaked whenever she filled it above the third mark.
At noon, she made coffee and forgot to place a cup beneath the spout.
Brown liquid spread across the counter and dripped into the cutlery drawer.
May you like
She stood watching it for several seconds before taking a towel.
Her work phone and laptop were gone. Without them, the apartment felt emptied of sound. She found her personal phone beneath a stack of unopened mail. There were twelve messages.
