“You raise money.”
“You don’t coach the team.”
The Parent Council President’s expression hardened.
The Assistant Head glanced toward the door.
He had lost control of the room without realizing it.
The Girl continued:
“I want the security video preserved.”
Nobody answered.
She repeated:
“I am formally requesting preservation of the courtyard recording.”
The Assistant Head shifted in his chair.
“Why?”
“Because she destroyed my property.”
The Parent Council President laughed.
“Destroyed?”
She gestured.
“It is a toy.”
The Girl’s hands tightened around the edge of her wheelchair tray.
“It took eleven weeks.”
The room went quiet.
For the first time, emotion entered her voice.
The Parent Council President noticed.
She leaned into it.
“There are competitions every year.”
“Build another.”
Nine days.
The Girl thought.
Nine days.
She could not rebuild it in nine days.
Not properly.
Not with school classes.
Not with testing.
Not while preparing the rest of the robot.
The Parent Council President knew that.
That was why she had done it now.
The Girl looked at her.
“You waited until nine days before qualifiers.”
The Parent Council President’s eyes changed.
Just slightly.
The Girl saw it.
The Assistant Head did too.
“What does that mean?”
he asked.
The Girl kept looking at the woman.
“You had weeks to complain.”
“You picked today.”
The Parent Council President stood.
“I will not sit here while a child accuses me of some conspiracy.”
The Girl answered:
“Then sit down and let the video show what happened.”
That stopped her.
The Security Officer looked toward the floor.
The Girl saw him.
“You saw it.”
He looked up.
The Parent Council President turned immediately.
The Security Officer hesitated.
Then said:
“I saw the device hit the ground.”
The Girl’s stomach dropped.
That was not what he saw.
It was technically true.
And intentionally incomplete.
She looked at him.
“You saw her take it from my tray.”
Silence.
“You saw her throw it.”
Silence.
“You saw her step on it.”
The Parent Council President said:
“Enough.”
The Girl looked directly at the Security Officer.
His face had gone red.
Finally he said:
“Yes.”
The Assistant Head leaned back.
The Parent Council President spun toward him.
“She is twisting this.”
The Security Officer added:
“She did take it from the wheelchair tray.”
The room changed.
Not much.
But enough.
The Parent Council President sat.
The Girl exhaled slowly.
The Assistant Head said:
“We will preserve the video.”
The Girl nodded.