His race, his background, the fact that he doesn't come from old money like most of your students. Ms. Anderson flinched as if slapped. I I never meant to. You never meant to be caught.
Jonathan corrected her. Let me be clear, Miss Anderson. Your treatment of my son and others like him ends today. Principal Hayes has already agreed to a full review of Jefferson Academyy's inclusivity practices with particular attention to faculty bias. You can't, she began, then stopped herself, realizing the precariousness of her position.
I can and I have, Jonathan replied calmly. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to take my son home. He gently woke Malik and Ethan, who blinked groggly back to consciousness. Time to go? Malik asked, rubbing his eyes.
Almost, Jonathan replied. Ethan, your parents are on their way. They should be here any minute. As if on quue, an agent appeared at the door. Mr.
Carter, the Williams family has arrived for their son. Ethan gathered his things, then turned to Malik. This was the craziest day ever, he said, his voice a mixture of awe and lingering fear. Will you be at school tomorrow? I don't know, Malik replied, looking to his father.
Well see, Jonathan said non-committally. Let's get through tonight first. After Ethan left with his visibly shaken parents, Jonathan led Malik through the now quiet school corridors. FBI agents nodded respectfully as they passed, and Malik couldn't help noticing how differential everyone was to his father. The same father Ms.
Anderson had mocked him for claiming worked at the Pentagon. Outside the black SUVs, legitimate government vehicles this time waited to escort them home. As they climbed into the backseat of the lead vehicle, Malik finally asked the question that had been building all day. Dad, who were those people? Why were they at my school?
Jonathan considered his son's question carefully. The age-old instinct to protect Malik by keeping him in the dark wared with the day's stark reality. Ignorance hadn't protected him at all. They were intelligence operatives working for a foreign government, he said finally. They were gathering information and possibly, he hesitated, then decided Malik deserved the truth.
Possibly planning to take some of the students whose parents work in sensitive positions. Like me, Malik asked, his eyes widening. Yes, Jonathan admitted. Like you because of what you do at the Pentagon? Jonathan nodded, watching his son carefully for signs of fear.
To his surprise, Malik's expression showed more curiosity than terror. So, you're not just an analyst, Mik said. It wasn't a question. No, Jonathan confirmed. I lead a counter inelligence unit.
We identify and neutralize threats to national security. Is that why we never talk about your work at home? Why you never come to school events? Partly, Jonathan said, "My position is classified and maintaining a low profile helps protect both the operations I oversee and our family." Malik was quiet for a moment processing this information.