Page 90 of The Game Is Afoot

“You know what, I might go say something to her, because that ain’t right.”

“You don’t need to say something, Ms. Joyce,” I insist, tightening my grip on her arm. I honestly don’t know who would win in a battle between Trisha and Ms. Joyce, but I don’t want to find out today with the entirety of the Knoll Elementary Parents Facebook group here to report the results. “It’ll be fine. There’s plenty of seats.”

“How many do we need?” Corey asks. “Five?”

I can tell by the way his thumb is circling his pinkie at his side what he’s really asking.Is Jack sitting with us?

“Just four. Jack is helping backstage. Mr. Forest requested some extra assistance.” What he really requested was protection, but that feels weird to say out loud when the person he requested protection from, the one who isn’t in jail awaiting trial at least, is standing right there with her neon-pink signs.

There’s relief on Corey’s face, but he tries to disguise it with an easy, one-dimpled smile. They can coexist just fine—theyhaveto, for me and Pearl—but I know both Corey and Jack prefer it when there’s a little bit more space. Especially when I’m still putting off the big conversations we need to have.

“They shoulda given you special reserved seats,” Dad says, closing up the eight-dollar box of cookies that is somehow now empty. “This show wouldn’t be happening without you. I mean, we might’ve lost Mr. Forest like we lost Cole if it wasn’t for you.”

“Shhhh, Dad, it’s okay.” I look around to see if anyone is listening, staring. People are talking enough about everything that happened and my involvement in solving it all,again—I don’t need to give them any more reason to. And I don’t like to think about it too much myself either…

“You know, I might go on up there and see if they have a separate line for the elderly. I should get in before Little Miss Pink Sign.”

“Elderly? Was it anelderlywoman who had me buying a whole new door recently?”

“I told you to send that bill to Mackenzie.”

Dad and Ms. Joyce laugh, and I do my best to join in. But in my mind I also see Hank stalking toward me, feel the slash of his knife on my hand. I hear the pounding on the door before Ms. Joyce and Mackenzie broke it down, when I wasn’t sure if Iwould make it out okay, and Marigold’s loud, desperate wails as the police took her from Florence on my lawn. She and Axel were reunited with an aunt in Bakersfield, last I heard, but I still feel that little girl’s pain from that day deep in my chest. And that’s why I don’t like to think about it, even though it had a happy ending. Even though I solved the case, did what the detectives couldn’t do. Even though Hank and Florence are locked up and will never be able to get close enough to hurt me again. All the fear, all the danger, that led up to that is still there, as if it’s trapped in my cells.

My heart starts to race, and I know I need to anchor myself in the present.List three things you can see.The soft petals of the bouquet Corey is holding. The paisley print of Ms. Joyce’s blouse. A flash of familiar bright red hair—wait,what? I blink rapidly, trying to focus on the owner of that hair, but whoever it was is gone. Vanished. Did I…imagine that hair? Is this a brand-new I’m-losing-it symptom? Hallucinating my long-gone former friend? God, the heart palpitations and tight chest were enough…

Corey’s fingers brush against my back, just barely, and that snaps me back to right here, right now, much faster than the strategy from Google I can never seem to get all the way through. Dad and Ms. Joyce continue their back-and-forth about securing the best seats, so he whispers, just to me, “I forwarded that list of referrals from my therapist. Did you get them?”

“I did. I actually, um, have an appointment. For next week.”

I never thought I would be willingly seeing a therapist. Just a couple of months ago, Corey even saying the wordtherapistin my presence would have made me lash out. But once I accepted that it was a panic attack that nearly took me out after arealattack…well, I finally asked for help. Amateur lawn yoga and Tanya on the meditation app and calming strategies fromGoogle can only do so much, clearly. Jasmine, Dyvia, and Jack all offered to help me look, but it was Corey who asked if it might be easier for me to open up to a Black therapist specifically. And he got a list of referrals from his own, because a Black therapist was surprisingly hard to find in network. I have my insurance from Project Window for a little while longer, and then…that makes my heart race, too. But it’s okay. I’ll figure it out from there. Ialsoneed to figure out what it means, Corey helping me like this, making me feel like this, when I’m with someone else. That’s something else I can talk to Charlotte Green, LMFT, about next week.

“Oh, they’re opening the doors.”

“You take the right side, Elijah, and I’ll take the left. Whoever finds the best seats, just lie on across them until we regroup. Don’t let Little Miss Pink Sign tell you nothing.”

I feel a hand on my elbow, and I jump. God, I’ve got to stop doing that.

“Ms. Miller. I was hoping to talk to you,” Principal Smith says, his thick mustache lifting in a smile as I turn around. Okay, so the jump was valid.

“Does it have to be right now?” Or, like, ever? I nod toward the line in front of us, where people are slowly starting to move forward. Miss Joyce is bouncing in place, like she’s about to compete in a 100-yard dash.

“I promise I won’t take too much of your time,” he says, and I want to say no immediately, but I stop myself. A quick chat now is better than another uncomfortable meeting in his office, whatever this is about. I nod that it’s okay to Dad, Corey, and Ms. Joyce. She looks like she wants to hang back and fulfill her security detail duties, but her desire to beat Tricia must take over, because a second later she’s gone, Corey and Dad struggling to keep up.

“What is it, Principal Smith?” I ask, stepping over to the side.

Maybe he’s going to apologize, finally, for even having the nerve to think it was me poisoning Mr. Forest, now that we know for sure it was Florence. Not to mention Trisha blackmailing Mr. Forest and Bethany trying to scam money out of the school.I’mnot the parent who’s a problem.

“You were right.” That’s a good start. “Word got out that I might be canceling extracurriculars, before I could even put together an official statement myself, and there was a five-hour parent sit-in in the school rose garden—did you hear about that? They chained themselves to the bushes. And I can’t prove that it was a Knoll parent, but someone left a burning chessboard on my driveway.”

I hold in a laugh. Again,I’mnot the parent who’s a problem.

“So, it seems as if I can’t cancel the programs completely, but the fact remains that it’s too much for me to handle.” He clears his throat. “And that’s why I would like to ask—”

I hold up a finger. “I’m gonna stop you right there, Mr. Smith. I have enough on my plate, and I am no longer adding anything else. I’m doing plenty for the school as it is, and I can’t continue to get involved in everything just because you guys can’t get it together. I need to focus on myself and Pearl, and that’s it.” I may not have had my first appointment yet, but I don’t need therapy to teach me that saying no, setting firm boundaries with all this Knoll Elementary mess, is going to be the first step to a more peaceful, present life.

“I understand,” Principal Smith says with a grimace. But I can see his eyes working, that he’s going to try and argue his point more. And maybe I should just walk away before he gets a chance to do that. I’ve worried so much about being polite and likable with everyone at the school, all of the parents, but lookwhere that’s gotten me? A couple of solved crimes, yes, but also people trying to kill me and panic attacks and maybe red-hair hallucinations now? It’s not worth it. “Of course, I understand, Ms. Miller. We can’t keep using your advice and, uh,expertisein dealing with Knoll parents for free. But what if I paid you? For a more permanent arrangement?”

My mouth drops open.Pay me?Is this what happens when you set boundaries? Could I have been gettingpaidall along?

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