"Daniel Whitaker," he said, shaking my hand firmly. "I thought you'd hung up the sword."
"Some battles find you, whether you're ready or not," I answered, sliding the folder across the table.
He opened it carefully, reading each page in silence: the violation notice, the charter excerpts I had marked, and finally Thomas's directive, signed and dated, Claudia's bold scrawl across the bottom like a seal of arrogance. His brow furrowed as he turned each sheet, the weight of his silence pressing heavier with each minute.
When he finally looked up, his expression was hard. "This isn't just overreach," he said. "This borders on criminal. Ordering a private contractor to perform a search on a minor... she's lucky this isn't already in the hands of the district attorney."
"That's why I came to you," I said. "It will be. But first, I need it stopped. Not with whispers, not with a quiet memo. I need the community to see it fall apart in real time. Fear has kept them silent; they need proof that fear is a lie."
Halverson leaned back, folding his hands, studying me. "You're planning to confront her."
"At the next board meeting. Public, recorded, with the community present."
His eyes narrowed, but then a small, approving nod followed. "You've always understood the power of the right stage." He tapped the directive with one finger. "This will do it. And I'll give you more: I'll make myself available. You stream me in when the time comes, and I'll say it plain: she has no authority, and if she proceeds, she faces criminal liability."
It was more than I'd hoped for, and exactly what I needed. Claudia thought she ruled unchallenged because no one with real authority ever looked over her shoulder. That was about to change.