The least he could do was fight smart.
“When’s the school board meeting?”
“Three days before the CPS decision is due. Ashworth timed it deliberately. He wants to create pressure, make the caseworker feel like the community is watching and demanding action.”
“Then we need to be at that meeting. With our own story, our own witnesses.”
“That’s risky. You show up in your cut, you’re playing directly into his narrative.”
“Then I won’t wear my cut.”
Garrett’s jaw tightened.
“I’ll wear whatever I have to wear. I’ll say whatever I have to say. But I’m not letting him control the story without a fight.”
The Tuesday breakfasts continued through the investigation, though they felt different now.
Sadie arrived each week with updates on the whisper campaign at school.
Which parents had started avoiding her, which kids had been told not to play with her anymore, which teachers looked at her with pity instead of warmth.
“Emily’s mom said I couldn’t come to her birthday party,” Sadie reported one morning, her voice carefully neutral in the way children learn when they’re trying not to show how much something hurts.
“She didn’t say why, but I know it’s because of Mr. Ashworth. Because of what he’s been telling everyone.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“Don’t be. Emily’s parties are boring anyway.”
But her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
“It just sucks. I didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong. But everyone’s acting like we’re criminals.”
“Sometimes people believe what’s easy instead of what’s true.”
“That’s stupid.”
“Yeah. It is.”
Sadie stabbed at her pancakes with unusual aggression.
“Mrs. Patterson says I should just ignore it. That people will forget eventually and things will go back to normal.”
“But I don’t want to ignore it. I want to fight it.”
“I want to stand up in front of everyone and tell them they’re wrong.”
“You might get that chance.”
Sadie looked up, surprised.
“The school board meeting,” Garrett explained. “Mr. Ashworth is going to make his case there.”
“Try to get me banned from school property. Try to make the board pressure CPS into taking action.”
“Can I come? Can I speak?”
“That’s up to your aunt. But if she says yes, and if you want to, then yes. You can tell your story.”
Something shifted in Sadie’s expression.
The hurt was still there, but it was joined by something else now.
Purpose. Determination.
The same fierce spirit that had led her to offer a stranger her last dollar on a cold Tuesday morning.
“I want to,” she said. “I want everyone to know the truth.”
“Not just about you, but about what kindness really looks like. About how you don’t have to be rich or powerful or important to make a difference.”
“You just have to care.”
Garrett reached across the table and squeezed her small hand.
“You’re going to be amazing.”
“I know.”
She almost smiled.
“I learned from the best.”
The night before the school board meeting, Garrett sat alone in his apartment, staring at the clothes laid out on his bed.
No leather. No denim. No steel-toed boots.
Rebecca had been clear about the image he needed to project.
Respectable. Non-threatening. The kind of man people would trust around children.
He found a pair of khakis in the back of his closet, remnants of a funeral years ago.
A button-down shirt that still fit if he didn’t breathe too deeply.
Dress shoes that pinched his feet but looked appropriate.
It felt like a costume, like pretending to be someone he wasn’t.
But for Sadie, he would pretend.
For Sadie, he would be whatever he needed to be.