Mrs. Hargrove handed me the locket box for the photo. Vanessa stood stiffly beside me while a volunteer with a school camera said, “Closer, ladies.”
Vanessa inched half an inch nearer.
The volunteer chirped, “Big smiles.”
I smiled.
Vanessa showed teeth.
Flash.
Then Mrs. Hargrove said into the mic, “Let’s hear it one more time for Vanessa and Janet, helping our community.”
The applause somehow got louder.
A couple of parents approached Vanessa the second we stepped down.
“That was incredibly kind of you.”
“What a wonderful example for the students.”
“I had no idea you were so involved in local charity.”
Vanessa murmured something that may have been “Of course,” but her voice sounded thin.
I saw Toby across the gym, standing with his hands in his pockets. He was trying to look neutral, but there was the faintest hint of satisfaction around his mouth.
When I reached him, I touched his arm. “Did you know?”
He looked at me. “That she’d trap herself?”
I exhaled a shaky laugh. “That you were about to save me.”
His face changed then. Softer. Angrier, too, in that quiet way teenagers get when they have been forced to watch adults behave badly for too long.
