Enemy's Secret - Ashlee Price Page 0,51

right in the face. Normally, she's the one bothering me to hurry up and get her to school. She loves school. "Is something wrong?"

But all I see is a blank face and a smudge of crumbs - there, got it - that needed wiping. "Nope."

"OK... but you'd tell me if there were?"

Madison heads for the door. "Mom. We're going to be late."

"OK," I say, uneasy.

But Madison's like a turtle if she doesn't want to tell you something. And we are short on time, so the best thing is probably to leave it for now.

That afternoon, I get a call from the school principal, Mrs. O'Melly.

"Ms. Masterson, we have some unfortunate news. Madison has locked herself in the bathroom and won't come out."

"What?" I say.

"You should come here immediately."

Once I get there, I find that they've already managed to coax Madison out, albeit with the promise of some Doritos I end up supplying. As we sit in the principal's astringent-smelling, obsessively orderly brown-tone office, I hear the full story, partly from Mrs. O'Melly, partly from Madison herself. After weeks of being bullied by another girl, Amelia, my daughter had had enough and decided to barricade herself in the bathroom. This was the first the school was hearing about it too, apparently.

"We will be disciplining Amelia," Mrs. O'Melly says once Madison has told her side of the story. The principal's prolific salt and pepper eyebrows are lowered in an expression of utter ferocity. I definitely wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that look. Fortunately, her eyebrows soften as she looks my way. "But it may be best to have Madison take the rest of the week off. A bit of a break might do her some good. Maybe even a little trip? Kids often don't need much to bounce back from these things."

"Sounds like a good idea," I tell her, shaking her hand on the way out.

On the car ride home, Madison is quiet.

"Hey, what do you think about your principal's suggestion?" I ask.

"Sure," Maddy says, her voice flat.

"Madison."

"It could be fun," she admits with a small smile my way before turning back to the car window.

I try turning on the radio, but somehow Nelly Furtado's 'I'm Like a Bird' only makes the quiet loom even bigger.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I finally ask her.

No use in putting it off any more.

"I didn't want you to worry," she says.

"I'm sorry," she adds.

"Maddy." I pull over the car so she can have my full attention. "I'm your mom. It's my job to worry. And help out when I can. But I can't help you if I don't know something's wrong."

No response.

I reach over to give her hand a tentative squeeze. "OK, honey?"

"OK, Mom," she says dutifully.

Clearly, she's not in the mood. Not that I blame her. When I first got there, her eyes were dry but red from recent crying. Her favorite locket was broken, courtesy of that little red-haired demon Amelia. Needless to say, it has not been a good day, and there's no point in pretending that I can make it all better with a kind word or a hug.

I know Maddy. When she's sad, her favorite thing in the world is to go to bed, get under the covers, and fall asleep. The sooner I get us home, the better.

Pulling back onto the street, I stare at the windshield dully.

Weeks. This has been going on for weeks. How could I have missed it? Is Madison really that good of an actor, or was I too wrapped up with the whole Landon situation? Am I a shitty mother who's only concerned about herself?

And, is it crazy that as soon as Mrs. O'Melly said 'trip' I thought: like Disney World?

After a nice long nap, Maddy and I spend the rest of the day going over some English lessons in her workbook. If we go, she's likely to miss them, and a few extra. And getting a bit ahead never hurt anyway.

While I'm tucking her in that night, Maddy takes my hand. "Don't worry, Mom. I'll be fine."

A sad little laugh comes out of me. "I just wish you could've told me."

"I know."

"Maddy..."

"Yeah?"

"What would you say if we went to Disney World this weekend?"

Maddy's eyes snap open and she sits up straight in her bed. "You're joking."

"It's just a thought," I say, a bit taken aback.

While I had expected some excitement, I hadn't expected this much.

She grabs my hand with both of hers. "Could we? Please?"

I haven't seen her this