It takes a little over ten minutes to get there, and I spend every single one of them trying to get my emotions under control before I storm into that building and demand to know why they’re accusing my daughter without giving me the full story.
Because Livy is a lot of things.
Soft-hearted.
Stubborn.
Too brave for her own good.
But mean?
Never.
So, if my daughter shoved someone, I want to know what happened in the seconds before her hands ever touched him.
“Mrs. Moore,” the principal greets.
“It’s Ms.,” I remind her. “Where’s my daughter?”
“She’s in the detention hall,” she tells me. “Follow me.”
The detention hall?
My stomach drops, and my mind immediately fills with images of my sweet girl sitting in a room meant for kids who misbehave, tears in her eyes, shoulders curled inward, scared and alone.
By the time we reach the door, my anger has sharpened into something cold.
But when I walk into the room and see Livy standing there with her chin high, her eyes dry and full of determination, and her arms crossed tightly over her chest, I freeze.
Just for a second.
Because my daughter doesn’t look sorry.
She doesn’t look scared.
She looks furious and ready to do it again.
“Mama,” she says when she notices me.
But she doesn’t move from her spot.
It’s only then that I notice the younger girl hiding behind her, one small hand clutching the back of Livy’s shirt.
My chest tightens.
“Baby,” I say gently, lowering my voice. “What’s going on? I was told you shoved someone.”
“I did,” she says with a firm nod, her arms still crossed. “And if I see his stupid face again, I’ll do it again.”
The principal makes a sharp sound behind me, but I ignore it.
“Okay,” I say, kneeling in front of Livy. “I can see something big happened.”
“It did, Mama,” she says, her voice trembling now, but not with fear. With fury. “And it was more than something big. It was something rude and hateful and just plain mean.”
I nod, keeping my face calm even though every protective instinct I have is starting to wake up and stretch its claws.
“Then tell me what happened,” I say softly. “Start from the beginning.”
