"Rory punched someone?" Mia's voice rises with disbelief. "That's not like him at all. What happened? What provoked it?"
Principal Henderson's expression softens with something that looks like pity. "According to witnesses, the other student made some crude comments about you. Speculations about why you left Riverside years ago and recently returned."
The color drains from Mia's face. I reach over and take her hand, squeezing gently.
"What kind of comments?" I ask when Mia seems unable to speak.
Principal Henderson shifts uncomfortably. "The kind that nine-year-old boys shouldn't be repeating. I suspect they overheard their parents gossiping."
"Jesus." I run my free hand through my hair. Small towns and their damn rumor mills.
"Where are they now?" Mia's voice is barely above a whisper.
"In the nurse's office. They're not injured, just shaken up. The other student has a bloody nose but nothing serious." Principal Henderson leans forward, her expression sympathetic. "Miss Wilson, I understand this is difficult. But we have a zero-tolerance policy for physical violence. Both boys are suspended for three days."
Mia nods mechanically. "I understand. Can I see them?"
"Of course. But first, the other student's parents are waiting in the conference room. They'd like to speak with you."
My protective instincts kick into overdrive. "Is that necessary? The kids were defending their mother's honor."
"I appreciate that, Mr. Morgan. But school policy requires a meeting between all parties involved." Principal Henderson stands. "I'll be present to mediate."
The conference room is small and stuffy, made worse by the hostile energy radiating from the couple sitting across the table. The woman has her arms crossed over her chest, her mouth pressed into a thin line of disapproval. The man looks equally unimpressed.
"Mr. and Mrs. Patterson," Principal Henderson begins. "This is Miss Wilson and Mr. Morgan."
"We know who she is." Mrs. Patterson's voice drips with disdain. "The whole town knows who Mia Wilson is."
Mia flinches like she's been slapped. I squeeze her hand harder, anchoring her. God, small towns can be so judgmental!
"Your son made inappropriate comments about Miss Wilson," I say, keeping my voice level despite the anger simmering in my gut. "Comments he clearly heard from adults who should know better than to gossip in front of children."
Mr. Patterson's face reddens. "Are you accusing us of something?"
"I'm stating facts. Nine-year-olds don't come up with crude speculation on their own."
"That doesn't excuse violence," Mrs. Patterson snaps. "Your sons attacked our boy."
"One punch isn't an attack," I counter. "It's a kid defending his mother's honor after being provoked."
"Blake." Mia's voice is quiet but firm. She turns to the Pattersons, her spine straightening. "I apologize for my sons' behavior. Fighting is never acceptable, and they'll be disciplined at home as well as at school. But I hope you'll also address with your son why making cruel comments about someone's mother might provoke a reaction."
The Pattersons exchange glances. Some of the hostility drains from Mrs. Patterson's expression, replaced by grudging respect.
"Fine," she says stiffly. "We'll talk to him."
The meeting ends shortly after. Principal Henderson leads us to the nurse's office where two identical boys sit on the examination table, their legs swinging nervously. They both have dark hair like Mia's and fair skin dusted with freckles. But it's their eyes that stop me cold.
Hazel. With distinctive gold flecks that catch the fluorescent lighting.
The same unusual shade as Jack's eyes.
"Mom!" They both jump off the table and rush to Mia, wrapping their arms around her waist. She holds them tight, her face buried in their hair.
"Are you okay?" she asks, pulling back to examine them. "Are you hurt?"
"We're fine," the slightly taller one says. His voice carries more confidence, more bravado. "That kid deserved it for saying those things about you."