She didn't answer.
Mark rubbed the back of his neck. "I know I should have called you. I picked up the phone so many times. But she begged me not to. I didn't want her to feel like I was choosing your side over hers. I wanted her to have one safe place where she didn't feel pressured."
"This isn't about sides, Mark. This is about being a parent. We have to be the adults, even when it makes them mad at us."
"I know," he said.
"I picked up the phone so many times. But she begged me not to."
I believed him. He looked like a man who had seen his daughter drowning and grabbed the first rope he could find, even if that rope was frayed and rotten.
I turned back to Emily. "Skipping school doesn't make them stop, honey. It just gives them power."
Her shoulders sagged.
Mark looked at me, then at Emily. "Let's go sort this out together. The three of us. Right now."
I looked at him, surprised. He was usually the one who wanted to "sleep on it" or "wait for the right vibe."
"Skipping school doesn't make them stop, honey."
Emily blinked, her eyes wide. "Now? Like, in the middle of second period?"
"Yes," I said. "Before you have time to talk yourself out of it. We're going to walk into that office and hand them that legal pad."
Walking into the school felt different with both of us there.
We asked for the counselor.
We all sat down in the cramped office, and Emily told the counselor everything. The counselor, a woman with kind eyes and a no-nonsense bun, listened without interrupting. When Emily finished, the room was quiet.
"Now? Like, in the middle of second period?"
"Leave this with me," the counselor said. "This falls directly under our harassment policy. I am going to bring in the students involved today, and they will be facing disciplinary action. I'll be calling their parents before the final bell rings."
Emily's head snapped up. "Today?"
"Today," the counselor affirmed. "You shouldn't have to carry this for another minute, Emily. You did the right thing by coming in."
"This falls directly under our harassment policy."
As we walked back out to the parking lot. Emily walked a few paces ahead of us. The hunch in her shoulders had eased, and she was actually looking at the trees instead of her sneakers.
Mark stopped by the driver's side of the old truck. He looked at me over the roof of the cab. "I really should have called you. I'm sorry."
"Yes, you really should have."
He nodded, looking down at his boots. "I just... I thought I was helping her."
"I really should have called you. I'm sorry."
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