Page 51 of Jett

“Brooke didn't do that,” I protest, my nostrils flaring.

“How do you know?” Abigail asks.

“How does Madison know? Where is her proof?” I push back. “Your daughter can't make accusations without backing them up. Brooke did nothing of the sort. I've been with her the entire time.”

By now, all of the mothers have come over to witness this spectacle with a better view.

“She went to the bathroom!” Madison yells, her face an ugly grimace as she glares at Brooke. I keep my hand firmly pressed against Brooke’s shoulder, letting her know I have her back.

“I accompanied her.” I narrow my eyes at Abigail, hating her intensely for siding with her daughter without giving Brooke any benefit of the doubt.

“Mommy, she broke my doll. I hate her. She's come and now this happens.” The child throws her arms up, diva-style.

With her daughter's face buried in the skirt of her bright yellow summer dress, Abigail eyes me icily. “These girls are around each other's houses all the time and we’veneverhad this problem before.”

I place my other hand on Brooke’s other shoulder. “Brooke is a well-behaved child, and she wouldneverdo something like this. You and your daughter owe her an apology because she’s been in my sight the entire time. It’s appalling that you would make such an accusation without a shred of evidence. I assure you, Brooke hasn’t touched those dolls.”

“Who’s to say you'd tell the truth anyway?” Abigail hisses.

“Pardon me?” I fire back. “What do you mean?”

“Why should I believeyou?”

There’s an accusation there. A sliver of something nasty.

“It’s the truth, and I don’t care whether you believe me or not.” This is personal. She doesn’t know me, she’s referring to me being the help, and not part of her clique. I wish Celine were here. I feel like the mob has turned on me and Brooke with pitchforks. “Come on, Brooke. Let's go home.” They obviously don’t believe me, and there’s nothing else I can say, so it’s better to leave.

Brooke is somber on the way home, and I feel terrible for her. I tell her that she's done nothing wrong and shouldn't feel bad. I still feel awful for her, because Madison seems to be popular. And because Brooke isn't a regular member of this club, it’s easier to vilify her. Celine did warn me, and I wish I'd taken her number. I have so many questions I'd like to ask her. I’d also like to know more about Jett's mother.

At least, I’ve now learned that this house was named after her.

As we head back, Brooke remains downcast, but I'm determined to cheer her up. Entering her room, I see a few large boxes on the floor and big folded heap of material.

“My tent!” Brooke cries. It's the first burst of excitement I've had from her in the last hour.

“We're going to put it up right now!” I want to cheer her up fast and make her forget all the ugliness of the day. Quickly opening the boxes, I discover fairy lights, a large fluffy blanket, and some pillows.

“Can I help you put it up?”

“I’m not doing this alone.”

Her smile reaches her eyes now, and I feel so much better. The tent is easy enough to erect. Lots of pieces connect together with a click, and in no time, we've put up a large dome-shaped tent.

“I love it!” Brooke cries gleefully, crawling into it.

“It's pretty cool.” I can see how much fun this would be. We lay down the fluffy blanket and put in the pillows. Once inside, I string up the fairy lights.

We both lay on the blanket, looking around us.

“Feels like a magical little place, doesn't it?”

“I love it. Please can I sleep here tonight?”

“I don’t see why you can’t.” If she doesn’t like it, she’ll climb into her bed.

She turns and hugs me, burying her face into my chest as her small hands press against me. I kiss the top of her head. The memory of her being accused of breaking the doll, of Madison being so nasty to her, fills me with rage, and I hope that tent being up will wipe that nasty episode from Brooke’s mind.

Still, something niggles me. Why would Madison only blame Brooke? She seemed so sure of it, but Brooke wasn't the only one to leave and go to the bathroom. As I ponder the reasons behind this deviousness, Brooke crawls out, reappearing seconds later with her tattered elephant and a few books.

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