“She never corrected you?”
“I never had reason to ask.”
Rachel wrapped her fingers around the back of the empty chair. The metal edge pressed into her palm.
“Show me the attendance.”
Mara’s eyes flicked up. “Rachel—”
“Please.”
Mara studied her for half a second, then turned the laptop around.
The spreadsheet was painfully ordinary. Dates down one column. Students across the top. Green boxes, gray boxes, a few yellow notes for injuries or excused absences. Audrey Mercer’s column began almost entirely green.
Then, five weeks earlier, the pattern broke.
Absent.
Present.
Absent.
Absent.
Present in building, no class.
Absent.
Absent.
Present in building, no class.
Absent.
Rachel stopped counting when she reached eleven because Mara had already done it and because seeing the sequence transformed a frightening claim into something incontestable.
She leaned closer.
“What was this?” she asked, pointing to a note beside one of the absences.
