Chapter 8

"Actually," Miss Carter said carefully, "I'd like to know more about that, too. Thompson, you mentioned your back hurts."The principal's office had grown uncomfortably silent. Thompson shifted his weight, wincing slightly at the movement.Miss Carter noticed immediately. "Thompson, would you mind showing us?" she asked gently.Veronica stood up abruptly. "This is ridiculous! We're wasting valuable time on theatrics."Principal Williams raised his hand for silence, his expression grave. "Thompson, please show us what Miss Carter is referring to."Reluctantly, Thompson lifted the back of his shirt just enough to reveal several angry red welts across his lower back—unmistakably the marks of a ruler or similar instrument. Miss Carter gasped softly.Principal Williams' face darkened as he rose from his chair. "Who did this to you, son?" he asked, though his eyes had already shifted to Veronica, whose face had drained of color."I fell," Thompson repeated mechanically, quickly lowering his shirt."Thompson," Miss Carter said gently, "no one gets marks like that from falling."Veronica found her voice. "He's clearly trying to manipulate the situation! This is an outrageous attempt to distract from his behavior. For all we know, those marks could have come from anywhere—his home, a fight with another student—"Principal Williams' jaw tightened. "Ms. Maxwell, that's enough." He turned to Thompson. "Was this done to you at school?"Thompson stared at the floor, silent."Thompson," Miss Carter encouraged, "telling the truth isn't disrespectful.""Last week," Thompson finally whispered. "I couldn't solve a problem fast enough at the board."The revelation hung in the air like poison. Principal Williams' expression was thunderous as he turned to Veronica, who had begun gathering her things.

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