The words fell into silence. The three children exchanged glances, the kind of rapid, wordless communication that only siblings who had grown up together could manage. Something passed between them, some understanding or agreement, and then Anna stepped forward.
“Miss Grace,” she said, her voice taking on a formal quality that reminded Mel of court proceedings.
“I would like to present empirical evidence.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You taught us that conclusions should be based on empirical evidence. Observable facts that can be verified and analysed. You said that people often make decisions based on emotion rather than evidence, and that such decisions are frequently wrong.”
Mel felt her lips twitch despite herself. Hearing her own lessons quoted back to her was disconcerting, but also strangely touching. She had taught them well.
“I seem to recall saying something similar to that…”
“Then I submit the following evidence for your consideration.” Anna cleared her throat, assuming the posture of a barrister presenting a case.
“Evidence item one: you have been the most effective governess we have ever had. Prior to your arrival, we had driven away seven governesses in four years. None of them stayed longer than three months. You have been here for four months and have shown no signs of wishing to leave until now.”
“That is accurate.”
“Evidence item two: our behaviour has improved significantly since your arrival. Thistle no longer releases insects in the dining room. I no longer organise coups against household authority. Viola speaks in complete sentences rather than whispers. These improvements are documented in my records.”
Mel thought of the attendance register that Anna maintained so carefully, the charts and graphs she created to track everything from vocabulary acquisition to behavioral incidents. The child was nothing if not thorough.
“Your records are meticulous.”
“Evidence item three: Papa has changed since you arrived. He visits more often and he stays longer. He reads us bedtime stories and takes us to the beach and talks to us about our mother. He did none of these things before you came.”
“Your father’s behaviour is his own choice.”
“His behaviour changed in response to you. That is correlation, which you taught us may indicate causation when other factors are controlled for.” Anna paused, glancing at her sisters for support.
“Evidence item four: Papa looks at you differently than he looks at anyone else. He thinks we don’t notice, but we do. Viola noticed first and she notices everything.”
Viola nodded, her quiet confirmation carrying the weight of hours of careful observation.
“Evidence item five: you are not leaving because of a family emergency. You are leaving because something happened between you and Papa, something that made you believe staying was impossible. But your conclusion is based on incomplete evidence. You are making an emotional decision rather than an empirical one.”
Mel stared at the child before her, at the fierce intelligence and the careful logic and the desperate affection that underlay every word. Anna was fighting for her, using the very tools Mel had given her, turning her teacher’s lessons into weapons against her teacher’s departure.
It was, she thought distantly, exactly what she would have done in the same situation.
“Your case is compelling,” she said slowly.
“But you are missing crucial evidence that changes the calculation.”
“What evidence?”
“Evidence I cannot share with you.”
“Why ever not?”
“Because it involves adult matters that are not appropriate for children.”
“We’re not ordinary children.” Thistle stepped forward, Brutus still clutched to her chest. “You’ve always said we were exceptional. You said our minds worked differently from other children’s minds. You said we could understand things that most adults underestimate children’s capacity to comprehend.”
“I did say that.”
“Pray, grant us your confidence. Bestow upon us the same trust we so freely accord you, and disclose the particulars of what has transpired.”
