“I thought if grown-ups found it, they might throw it away.”
She looked at me with terrified, loyal eyes.
“So I guarded it.”
“His backpack was still under the table.”
***
I held her while she cried into my shoulder, and the unfinished unicorn sat between us like Randy had only stepped out of the room.
When she calmed down, I asked, “Who takes care of you?”
“My grandpa. Grandpa Joe.”
“Do you know his number?”
Her hands shook, so I dialed.
Grandpa Joe answered breathlessly. “Sarah? Is this you, my child?”
“This is Haley. Randy’s mom. Sarah is with me.”
“Oh, Lord. Ma’am, I’m sorry. She left before I woke up.”
“Who takes care of you?”
“She didn’t bother me, Joe,” I said. “She brought my son home.”
He went quiet.
“Please come over. Tomorrow, come to the school with me.”
Sarah looked terrified. “Ms. Bell will be mad.”
I took her hand. “Randy was scared too, but he still told you the truth, honey. Now we tell it for him, okay?”
“Ms. Bell will be mad.”
***
The next morning, I put Randy’s card, the apology letter, and the unfinished unicorn into my son’s backpack.
Then I drove to the school.
The Mother’s Day display was still in the hallway: paper flowers, crooked cards, painted hearts, and one blank space near the middle.
I knew it was Randy’s.
Ms. Bell came out when she saw us. Her face changed when she spotted the backpack.
“Sarah,” she said softly. “Where did you get that?”
I drove to the school.
“Randy gave it to me,” Sarah said, reaching for my hand.
I let her take it.
Ms. Bell looked at me. “Haley, maybe we should speak privately.”
“No,” I said. “We should speak honestly.”
I placed Randy’s apology letter in front of her.
“My son wrote this before he collapsed.”
Ms. Bell covered her mouth.
“Did he ruin the wall?”
She looked away. “I believed the information I had.”
