“Nia?”
Blake’s face went blank.
Rochelle walked faster.
Nia looked toward her.
“Hey, Mom.”
The lobby became silent.
Blake turned toward Trent.
Trent closed his eyes.
Rochelle reached Nia and looked at the paint covering her daughter’s hair, cheeks, cardigan, backpack, and crutches.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Did you fall?”
“Almost.”
Rochelle looked at Blake.
Then at the empty blue bucket.
Then at the purple cup.
Finally she looked at Caldwell.
“What happened?”
Nia answered before the principal could.
“He poured both on me.”
Rochelle looked toward the phones.
“Did anyone record the beginning?”
Hands rose everywhere.
Mia stepped forward.
“I have all of it.”
Rochelle nodded.
“Please don’t delete anything.”
Blake finally spoke.
“It was just a prank.”
Rochelle turned toward him.
She had spent twenty-seven years in education.
She had heard that phrase thousands of times.
“What part was funny?”
Blake opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Rochelle looked at her daughter again.
“Did you tell him to stop?”
“Before the paint.”
“And afterward?”
“Twice when he grabbed me.”
Rochelle’s expression hardened.
She did not yell.
That frightened Blake more than yelling would have.
Principal Caldwell told Blake to report immediately to the administrative office.
Blake tried to explain that everybody had been joking before Rochelle arrived.
Caldwell interrupted.
“No.”
“You’re done talking in this lobby.”
Blake left with an assistant principal.