the IT department pulled the records on file for the kids with the registration paperwork you requested, these were in the system with it.” She slides over a thin stack of papers to me.
“I thought you said he didn’t bring you the paperwork?” I question Miss Crabtree, who shrinks back into her chair beside me. “If it’s in the school’s system, he would’ve had to bring it into the office. Am I correct?”
“He didn’t. At least, I didn’t see him again, but he might have brought them in while I was at lunch.”
“I’d check with our normal administrative assistant, but she’s been out sick this week. I’m assuming he left it with her.” Ms. Pyle shrugs her shoulders. “Nevertheless, it’s all in order.”
I thumb through the top copy and find several pages of transfer records, and even a short medical record history for both children. The last page draws my interest the most, which has their guardian’s name written in broad strokes: Eugene Grant. The address is a little harder to read, but the street couldn’t be that far away from the school.
“I think this will do for now. I’ll need to keep a copy of this paperwork for our records.”
“It’s all yours. We have the originals digitally held in our cloud storage.”
“If that’s all you need from me, I had the guidance counselor pull them from class under the guise of a new student orientation meeting. If you’ll follow me, I’ll introduce you.”
“Will you please privately notify the counselor that I will be recording my interaction with the children?”
“I’ll just send her a message now that we’re on our way, and will let her know about the recording device.” She types quickly on an open laptop to her left, smiling when she strikes the last key.
“She’s aware, and they’re ready for you.”
With a polite nod to Miss Crabtree, I collect my files and tape recorder, and follow the superintendent to the closed office I’d passed earlier. Knocking quietly, she opens the door, apologizes for interrupting, and introduces me to the counselor, Mrs. Parks, who waves me inside. The second I walk over the threshold, two pairs of eyes focus intently on me, like they know I’m here for them.
Dear God. There’s no doubt the images I have are of the same children sitting in front of me, their worry clear as day on their faces. The same eyes. Same faces. By all appearances, they look healthy, but physical health doesn’t prove there’s no physical abuse, if that’s the case here.
Stepping inside the office, I nod when Ms. Pyle closes the door behind us. Taking the only available seat in the room next to Natalie, I tuck my briefcase beside my feet on the floor, but quickly conceal the recorder on the top of it, away from the kids’ line of sight. She recoils back in her chair and leans closer to her brother, who’s staring a hole right through me with angry eyes.
“Who’s she?” Kevin mutters to the counselor.
“A friend,” I reply sweetly. “My name is Grace. What’s your name?”
“A friend would know our name,” he fires back.
I smile. “Of course.”
“Kevin Tucker,” Mrs. Parks admonishes.
Kevin eyes me up and down, analyzing every inch of me, like he’s one of those X-ray scanners at the airport looking for dangerous objects. He frowns, unamused at my assumption of being their friend. If I had been in the system for as long as they had, I’d be wary of anyone claiming to be my friend as well. I have to play this carefully, or risk losing the chance of speaking to them one-on-one. Well, one-on-two.
“I understand you’re both new here. Did you just move?”
Natalie remains quiet, while Kevin rolls his eyes at me. “Why does that matter?”
“It’s just a part of getting to know you both as new students,” Mrs. Parks coolly lies. “Please answer the question, Kevin.”
“Yes. We moved here a few weeks ago.”
“With your family?”
Natalie shoots a puzzled look over to her brother before leaning in to whisper in his ear, but he shakes his head to silence her.
“With our uncle.”
Uncle? What about their mother? She’s their legal guardian, so for the kids to be living with another family member strikes me as odd. Curious, even, because not a single family member came forward to take custody of them when their mother had been arrested. If this uncle can take them in now, why didn’t he previously? The more I think about it, the more the swirling pit of uneasiness