CHAPTER 8: The Classroom Chooses

No one clapped.
This was not that kind of victory.
A slap had happened. A drawing had been stolen. A lie had been staged with enough confidence that it almost worked. The classroom had to sit with that.
Ms. Carter asked Hana for the torn sketch and received it with both hands, as if it were something living.
Then she asked a student near the desk to bring the rest of Whitney’s folder without opening it.
Whitney whispered, “Please.”
Ms. Carter’s expression did not soften.
“You had your chance to stop before you hurt her.”
The folder revealed the larger part of Hana’s drawing, hidden between Whitney’s glossy practice sheets. The rip matched perfectly. The blue corner completed the window. The mother at the kitchen sink returned whole on the table in front of everyone.
Hana pressed her lips together and looked down.
For one painful second, she thought she might cry again.
Then Mason said quietly, “It was always hers.”
This time, the silence agreed.