She did not try to draw him into the hallway. A witness wasn't a piece of equipment to be called whenever the team needed a new part. Back at Southside, Haral, the girls faced a problem less visible than the broken robot. The district's school account administrator had placed the team's shared video folder into a preservation state after the equipment complaint. The good news was that the stored files were protected against casual deletion.
The bad news was that student accounts could see previews but could not export originals until the administrator completed an access review. Maya's old rear angle phone contained some segments locally. The cryptical file had never finished syncing there and could not be independently viewed from the device alone. Camille clicked the permission notice three times as if sheer precision might unlock it. They froze the proof because somebody said we were unsafe.
They froze the folder because this is an official dispute. Maya said that may protect it. We don't have time to be grateful for being protected. Maya thought about that. We have time to ask when they'll verify it.
They drafted a request with the devices serial information, folder creation history, names of both account owners, and a list of files already uploaded before Tuesday afternoon. It was a dry piece of writing. Maya wanted to fill it with a description of Easton's smile when he broke Beacon, but she knew the account administrator needed a narrower question. Was there an unedited original file around 3:42? and could it be retrieved without changing it?
Just before noon, Dr. King received the original equipment register. The questionable entry had been added on a supplementary sheet after the incident, not to the sign out page Maya had initialed in person. A staff assistant's initials appeared beside the amendment. Park was investigating how that had happened. The center did not accuse Maya of signing it, but the false implication remained inside Easton's report, and Southside still had to answer it.
Park also agreed to let the girls speak with the center's equipment coordinator. The coordinator, a middle-aged man named Thomas Greer, placed the original register beside the supplementary page and explained the sequence without guessing about anyone's intentions. On Tuesday, the normal checklist recorded a safe, stationary Southside robot before the last demonstration. After the crash, a volunteer entered a separate note describing damaged equipment. Later, someone asked an assistant to combine the two sheets for the review.
The assistant should have marked the second line as an after incident observation, Greer said. Instead, she put it beneath the team return column. That is an error in our process. Maya pointed at the initials. Those aren't mine.
The assistant believed they identified the person checking the form, not the person taking equipment. The sheet does not tell the reader that that's our responsibility to correct. Camille drew a slow breath, but Easton used the page as if Maya had signed for a broken robot. That's why Park is preserving both versions. Greer said, "We can correct the record and still examine the way it was used."He gave them certified copies of the two pages and a note explaining the amendment. He did not take back the flawed scan to make it disappear. Maya appreciated that more than she expected. A corrected mistake was better when a person could also see where the correction had had come from. On the walk out of the center, they passed the poster advertising the finals.
Six team logos were arranged in a circle around a glossy blue trophy. Southside's little logo was printed at the bottom, smaller than the sponsor names. Maya stood before it for a moment. We earned that place, she said. I know, Camille answered.
We didn't get invited because somebody felt sorry for us. I know that too. Maya touched the edge of the poster without covering anyone's else's name. Then I'm not going to let a clerical mistake become the reason we disappear from it. The doors opened as a group of middle school visitors arrived for a preview tour.
One of them wore an oversized Southside hoodie and carried a cardboard robot she'd made in class. Maya stepped aside to let them through. She watched the girl post the competition poster and wondered how many students had been told a technical field belonged to someone who looked more certain than they did. In the hallway, Camille finally lost patience. He's destroying the machine twice.
Once with his hands and once with paper. Why aren't we making people listen? They are listening to him and to us. Park asked for records. Records don't fix a Saturday deadline.
Maya felt a flare of her own anger. Neither does yelling at me. The words landed hard. Camille stepped back. She had never once yelled at Maya about a result she didn't earn.
But the last three days had turned every unfinished task into an accusation neither girl intended. Camille gathered her tools. You keep thinking if you're perfect, nobody can say we messed up, she said. I can't do that. I'm a person, not another part on your inspection sheet.
Maya wanted to say that she was only trying to protect them. Instead, she remembered her mother's warning about carrying everything alone. You're right, she said after a long moment. I'm asking you to be calm so I don't have to be afraid in front of anybody. Camille's face softened, but she wasn't ready to make up.
I need 20 minutes. Take 20. Alone in the lab, Maya examined the harness diagram. She found herself reading the same line again and again. She had been treating the robot as if a clear plan could hold back a dishonest person.
She was beginning to understand that certainty wasn't one of the parts they would be able to borrow. At the school, Dr. King gave the team to Choy about the remaining afternoon. They could use their limited access to test electronics under supervision, or they could attend another meeting to contest the temporary hold in person. Neither option guaranteed eligibility. Maya looked at Camille's test grid and realized how much time they had already spent standing in offices instead of at a workbench. "You go to the meeting if you need to,"Camille said. "I'll keep measuring."Maya shook her head. We've given them our documents. Right now, Beacon needs both of us. If there are more questions, Dr. King can ask them in writing. It was the first decision she had made all week that felt like leading rather than reacting.
She wasn't giving up on accountability. She was deciding which part of the work only she could do. Just after 1, another message came from Park's office. The independent review would convene Saturday at 8. Southside would be allowed to demonstrate the rebuilt machine in a restricted safety test if it was ready, but the temporary entry hold would remain in place until the panel reached a finding.
It was a cautious compromise. It gave the girls no guarantee and almost no room for delay. Maya shared the message with Camille, who responded after several minutes. Her text was brief. I'll be there at 6.
Bring the notebook. I'll bring the meter. Don't do that, Before the girl turned to their benches, Luca's AV teacher contacted Dr. King to confirm that she had received his complaint about pressure to amend his account. She was arranging for him to speak to the panel with an adult present. What he'd witnessed was narrow, but somebody had tried to narrow it further.