The firmness stopped everyone.
Dr. Carter continued:
“Mrs. Bennett, this is not an invitation.”
Rochelle stared.
Dr. Carter opened the top folder.
“The school financial office found a discrepancy connected to the Benjamin Bennett Education Trust.”
Nia forgot to breathe.
Benjamin Bennett.
Her father.
His name had not been spoken in connection with money for years.
Nia remembered photographs.
A laugh.
Large hands helping her tie shoes.
A blue hospital blanket.
Her father dying when she was seven.
Cancer.
Five years ago.
“What trust?”
she whispered.
Rochelle turned.
“Nia.”
“What trust?”
“You’re too young to understand.”
Dr. Carter’s expression hardened.
Nia looked at her mother.
“Dad left money?”
“Your father left several things.”
“For school?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“That is not parking-lot information.”
Nia stared.
Her mother had never told her there was an education trust.
She knew her father carried life insurance.
Knew some money helped pay the mortgage after he died.
Knew he had worked as a civil engineer and saved aggressively.
But a trust with her name connected to it?
Never.
Dr. Carter closed the folder.
“Tomorrow. Eight-thirty.”
Rochelle’s face looked tight.
“I have Kayla’s dentist appointment.”
Kayla said:
“No, I don’t.”
Everyone turned.
Kayla frowned.
“My dentist is Thursday.”
Rochelle stared at her daughter.
Kayla lowered her pom-poms.
“Sorry.”
Nia almost laughed.
Dr. Carter said:
“Eight-thirty.”
Then she walked away.
Rochelle stood beside the SUV.
No one spoke.
Finally Kayla whispered:
“Mom?”
“Get in.”
Neither girl moved.
Rochelle looked at Nia.
“We are not discussing financial matters in a parking lot.”
“You were going to stop me from going.”
“I said get in.”
“You didn't sign it.”
“Nia.”
“Why?”
Rochelle’s face hardened.
“Because I am your mother and sometimes I have information you do not.”
“What information?”
“You are twelve.”
“I know.”
“You do not get to interrogate me.”
Nia’s eyes filled.
“I asked you to come to one ceremony.”
Rochelle opened the driver's door.
“Get in the car.”
This time Nia obeyed.
She sat beside the discarded scholarship packet.
Kayla climbed into the other side.
For the first five minutes, nobody spoke.
Then Kayla quietly picked up the packet.
She opened it.
Nia stared out the window.
Kayla read silently.
After a minute:
“Nia.”
“What?”
“You get to present at the science center.”
“I know.”
“There’s a picture.”
“I know.”
“Your project looks cool.”
Nia turned.
Kayla pointed to a photograph printed inside.
Nia standing beside a clear water tank, small sensors, tubing, and a laptop.
Her project:
LOW-COST LEAK DETECTION FOR AGING SCHOOL WATER SYSTEMS.
Kayla frowned.
“You made all this?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Bellmont lost like twelve thousand gallons last year from leaks nobody found.”
Kayla’s eyes widened.
“Twelve thousand?”
“More.”
“That’s stupid.”
“The pipes are old.”
Kayla kept reading.
Rochelle said from the front seat:
“Enough.”