“Some were.”
“Some were not.”
“I recused myself.”
“Not from all approvals.”
The Parent Council President looked toward the Girl.
That glance was too quick.
The Finance Director noticed.
So did the Girl.
The Parent Council President said:
“I have a gala meeting.”
The Finance Director answered:
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“The meeting has been postponed.”
“By whom?”
The Finance Director looked toward the wall monitor.
It turned on.
A woman appeared by video.
The Board Chair.
The Parent Council President froze.
The Board Chair’s expression was calm.
Not friendly.
“By the board.”
The Parent Council President’s jaw tightened.
“You can’t suspend council operations because of one child having a tantrum.”
The Girl’s face changed.
The Board Chair saw it.
“That language will be included in the record.”
The Parent Council President realized the mistake.
Again.
Too late.
The Board Chair continued:
“The board has received the courtyard preservation request.”
“We have also received the robotics build records.”
“The footage has been secured.”
The Girl exhaled.
Good.
The Parent Council President sat slowly.
The Board Chair continued:
“The Parent Council gala meeting is suspended pending review of procurement concerns.”
The woman’s hands clenched.
“Who authorized this?”
“Northstar.”
Silence.
The Girl knew the name.
Everyone did.
Northstar Learning Partners was the school’s largest institutional investor.
It had financed the new science building.
The athletic center.
Teacher housing.
Scholarships.
Three expansion projects.
But almost nobody at school knew who controlled it.
The Parent Council President did.
At least enough to become pale when the name was spoken.
She stared at the Board Chair.
“Northstar doesn’t involve itself in parent governance.”
“Normally.”
The Board Chair paused.
“Today is not normal.”
The Parent Council President looked around the room.
Then toward the Girl.
Suspicion formed.
The Girl kept her face neutral.
She had obeyed her father.
His name was still outside the room.
Then the sound arrived.
Low.
Rhythmic.
Far away at first.
The conference-room windows trembled faintly.
The Robotics Teacher looked toward the glass.
The sound grew.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
The Parent Council President turned.
The Girl closed her eyes briefly.
“Oh, no.”
The Robotics Teacher looked at her.
“What?”
The Girl sighed.
“He came anyway.”
Everyone moved toward the windows.
A dark executive helicopter descended toward the lower athletic field.
Rotor wash scattered leaves across the grass.
Staff outside looked up.
Students gathered behind windows.