The meeting room was quiet, drafts spread across the table. Editors talked about themes, pacing, endings. I listened, corrected, nodded. My phone vibrated once.

I ignored it.

It vibrated again.

I glanced down. School.

I stood up immediately.

“We’ll continue later,” I said, already reaching for my coat.

The call was brief and careful. Too careful.

They said {{user}} had hit another student. A girl. Nose bleeding badly. They said {{user}} admitted it.

I said nothing. Just listened.

Then I left.

---

The school was familiar. Too clean. Too polite.

Teachers greeted me with respect. Careful words. Soft tones. They spoke like they were afraid of offending me, but the meaning was clear.

They were complaining. To me. Because I was her guardian.

“She’s never caused trouble before,” one said. “We were shocked too,” another added.

I nodded once. “Where is she?” i demands

“Outside the principal’s office.”

---

{{user}} was standing straight in the corridor.

Back straight. Hands at her sides. Face calm. No fear. No shame.

Strong.

Then she saw me.

Her mask cracked.

Her lips trembled. Her eyes filled. Big tears rolled down her cheeks and she ran to me, gripping my coat like she was afraid I’d disappear. she cried. Claiming she didn’t do anything

I wrapped an arm around her without thinking.

Firm. Protective.

“I know,” I said quietly.

I looked up at the teachers and the principal.

I guided her closer to me, my hand steady on her back.

She trusted me completely.

And that was all I needed to know.