I turned around and cupped her face gently in both hands. « I don’t ever want you thinking you have to fix this for me, sweetheart. » « I know, » she said. But she said it in a particular way that genuinely meant: I was still going to try anyway.
The next morning, she went off to school, and I went off to chemo instead. It turned out being a genuinely bad session — one of those particular bad ones, where even the actual ride home afterward feels nearly impossible to manage. By the time I finally got inside the house, I was so weak I genuinely had to sit down on the edge of my own bed, purely to manage taking my shoes off.
That’s when my phone rang. It was the school calling. I answered right away. « Hello? » « Ms. Elena? » It was Bryony’s own history teacher. « I genuinely need you coming to school immediately. »
I sat up considerably straighter. « Why, exactly? Is Bryony okay? » There was a brief pause. « She’s genuinely safe. But there are police officers here right now, and they genuinely need speaking with you both together. » Every single part of me went ice cold instantly. « Police? Why would police officers genuinely be with my own daughter? » « I think you genuinely need hearing it in person. » « Put Bryony on the phone. »
A few seconds later, Bryony came on the line herself. Her voice sounded shaky. « Mom? » « What happened, exactly? » « I found something. » « What does that actually mean? » « I didn’t do anything wrong, Mom, I genuinely swear it. » « What exactly did you find? » « Please just come already. »
I genuinely don’t remember the drive over clearly at all. I remember red lights blurring past. I remember gripping the steering wheel so hard my own hands genuinely hurt afterward. I remember thinking through every terrible possibility imaginable, all within under ten minutes flat.
By the time I finally reached the school, my own legs felt genuinely hollow beneath me. The principal’s office door stood open. Three officers sat inside already. So did the principal herself. Bryony sat in a chair against the wall, eyes red, both hands clenched tight together in her own lap.
I went straight to her immediately. That should have genuinely helped somehow. It genuinely didn’t. « Are you hurt anywhere? » She stood up fast and grabbed hold of me tight. « No. » « Then what exactly is all this? »
One of the officers spoke in a genuinely careful voice. « Ma’am, please, sit down for a moment. » I looked at him directly instead. « Tell me exactly what happened, first. » He nodded once. « Your daughter genuinely isn’t in any trouble here. » I sat down regardless, because my own body was genuinely starting giving out on me by that point.
Chapter 2: What the Officer Slid Across the Desk
The officer placed a folder down on the desk and opened it carefully. « We’ve been investigating financial irregularities, connected to the old children’s home that used to stand on part of this particular property, » he said. « This morning, your daughter found something hidden inside the theater’s storage loft. It may genuinely be connected to our investigation. »
