“Then why is it in my case?”
Lila looked at the open door.
“Because she wanted you to find it where you feel safest.”
I asked whether somebody had watched the case during the performance.
A student said an adult volunteer had entered the room briefly to collect programs.
Nobody had seen what the volunteer did.
Mrs. Paredes documented the notice, photographed the case, and informed the school principal.
She did not tell the students to chase rumors through the hall.
She told them to pack their instruments and go home with their parents.
That ordinary instruction became the most reassuring thing anybody had said all evening.
The next day the principal asked every student who had access to the backstage room to write down what they remembered.
A boy named Theo mentioned seeing a woman in a volunteer badge stop beside Sophie’s case.
He had not recognized her face because she wore a scarf over her hair.
He did remember the badge had a purple ribbon attached.
The school checked its volunteer sign-in records and found three adults with purple ribbons.
One was a parent who had been onstage during the relevant time.
Another had already left.
The third was Celeste’s administrative assistant, Paige Ralston.
Paige confirmed she had been backstage but denied touching the case.
The principal sent the matter to the district office and stopped there.
I admired the restraint even as my anger grew.
At home, I found Sophie sitting on the floor beside the case.
“I want to break it,” she said.
“The instrument?”
“The case, the music, everything.”
I sat on the floor with her.
“Then we’ll sit here until you don’t,” I replied.
She gave me a long, tired look.
“You’re terrible at speeches.”
“I’ve been told that before.”
“By Mom?”
“Mostly by Mom.”
For the first time that day, she laughed.
Paige called me on a Thursday evening while I was inspecting a disabled bus.
Her voice was breathless, and she would not identify herself until I walked outside where it was quiet.
“I didn’t put that letter in the case,” she said.
“I believe you could have other reasons for calling,” I answered.
“Celeste wants me to sign a statement saying the trust received a proper withdrawal request from you.”
I leaned against the concrete wall.
“Were you in the room when she submitted it?”
“No.”
“Then why would you sign?”
Paige began to cry.
She said Celeste had paid her part-time wages for two years and had recently promised her a full-time position.
