Chapter 6 – The School Counselor
Chapter 6 – The School Counselor
The next morning, gray clouds lingered over the city as Richard steered his black sedan toward Brookside Academy.
For the first time in years, he wasn't rushing to the airport.
He wasn't answering conference calls.
His phone remained switched off in the center console.
Nothing mattered except the little girl sitting quietly beside him.
Maya stared out the window, Bunny resting in her lap. She had hardly spoken since leaving the house.
Every few minutes, Richard glanced at her.
She looked healthier than she had two days earlier after a proper breakfast and a full night's sleep, yet the exhaustion in her eyes remained.
As they approached the school gates, Maya suddenly gripped Bunny tighter.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"What if I'm in trouble?"
Richard's heart ached.
"Why would you be in trouble?"
She hesitated.
"I missed homework last week."
"You were sick."
"Eleanor said excuses make teachers disappointed."
Richard pulled into the visitor parking area and turned off the engine.
Then he faced her completely.
"Maya."
She looked at him.
"Listen very carefully."
"You are not in trouble."
"You haven't done anything wrong."
"If anyone should be ashamed..."
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"It isn't you."
Tears welled in Maya's eyes.
She nodded silently.
Brookside Academy was unusually quiet.
Students were already in class, leaving the hallways almost empty except for the distant sound of children reading aloud.
The receptionist smiled warmly as they entered.
"Good morning, Mr. Sterling."
"Mrs. Gable is expecting you."
She glanced toward Maya.
"It's nice to see you today."
Maya offered a tiny smile.
Richard noticed something he had never paid attention to before.
The receptionist looked relieved.
Not simply pleased.
Relieved.
Mrs. Linda Gable's office overlooked the school playground.
Shelves filled with children's books lined one wall, while colorful drawings decorated another.
A small fish tank bubbled quietly in the corner.
The counselor stood as they entered.
She was in her late fifties, with kind eyes and silver streaks in her brown hair.
Without hesitation, she knelt to Maya's level.
"It's wonderful to see you, sweetheart."
Maya gave a shy nod.
Mrs. Gable smiled.
"Would you like to feed the fish while your father and I talk?"
Maya looked toward Richard.
He smiled reassuringly.
"Go ahead."
She walked toward the aquarium.
Only after she was safely occupied did Mrs. Gable's expression become serious.
"I've been trying to reach you for months."
Richard lowered his head.
"I know."
"No."
She shook her head gently.
"I don't think you do."
Mrs. Gable opened a thick folder on her desk.
Maya's name was printed neatly across the front.
She slid it toward Richard.
"I've documented everything."
His stomach tightened.
Inside were attendance records.
Health reports.
Teacher observations.
Counseling notes.
The first page was dated nearly eight months earlier.
Observation: Maya frequently arrives without eating breakfast.
Richard's hands trembled.
He turned the page.
Observation: Wearing the same oversized sweatshirt three consecutive days.
Another page.
Observation: Frequently asks classmates if they have leftover lunch.
Another.
Observation: Falls asleep during afternoon reading sessions.
Richard looked up.
"Why wasn't I contacted sooner?"
Mrs. Gable sighed.
"We tried."
She reached for another file.
"Every emergency contact update came through Mrs. Sterling."
Richard froze.
"She changed them?"
Mrs. Gable nodded.
"Your phone number was removed."
Richard felt as though the floor had disappeared beneath him.
"What?"
"According to our records..."
She turned the form around.
"...Mrs. Sterling listed herself as Maya's primary guardian."
Richard stared at the signature.
It looked like his.
But it wasn't.
Someone had forged it.
His jaw clenched.
"That's not my handwriting."
"I suspected as much."
Mrs. Gable quietly handed him another document.
"The school nurse noticed inconsistencies."
Richard read the report.
Weight below expected range.
Signs of dehydration.
Recurring bruises on wrists and upper arms.
Child claims injuries caused by clumsiness.
He closed the file.
"I failed her."
Mrs. Gable leaned forward.
"No."
Richard looked at her.
"You were deceived."
"There's a difference."
She walked to a locked filing cabinet.
After unlocking it, she removed a small cardboard box.
"I've been saving these."
Richard frowned.
"What are they?"
"Letters."
She placed the box on the desk.
"Every assignment where students wrote to their parents."
Richard lifted the lid.
Inside were dozens of folded papers.
Some decorated with glitter.
Others covered in colorful stickers.
Each one addressed to him.
None had ever reached his hands.
Mrs. Gable picked up the first.
"Second grade."
She unfolded it carefully.
"Dear Daddy,"
"Today I learned about butterflies."
"Teacher says butterflies change."
"Maybe sad hearts change too."
"I love you."
"Love, Maya."
Richard swallowed hard.
Another letter.
"Dear Daddy,"
"I got picked for the school choir."
"Will you come watch?"
"If you're busy that's okay."
"I know work helps people."
He whispered, "I never knew."
Mrs. Gable nodded sadly.
"I believe you."
She handed him one final envelope.
"This one was never finished."
The paper was wrinkled.
Water stains blurred the ink.
Richard unfolded it.
"Dear Daddy,"
"I don't think Eleanor likes me anymore."
"Sometimes she says Mommy took all your love."
"I try to be good."
"I really do."
"Maybe if I disappear..."
The sentence stopped there.
Richard couldn't breathe.
He gripped the edge of the desk.
Mrs. Gable gently took the paper back before he crushed it in his shaking hands.
"That was the day I requested a psychological evaluation."
Richard closed his eyes.
"She was thinking about running away?"
Mrs. Gable hesitated.
"I believe she was thinking something much darker."
Silence filled the office.
Outside, children laughed on the playground.
Inside, Richard felt the weight of every missed opportunity.
Mrs. Gable sat quietly for a moment before speaking again.
"There was one incident I never documented."
Richard looked up.
"Why not?"
"Because I had no proof."
"What happened?"
She glanced toward Maya, who was happily sprinkling fish food into the aquarium.
Then lowered her voice.
"Three months ago, Eleanor came to school."
Richard frowned.
"I don't remember that."
"You weren't meant to."
Mrs. Gable continued.
"She requested that Maya stop attending the after-school reading program."
"Why?"
"She said Maya needed more discipline at home."
Richard remembered.
Maya had loved that reading club.
She never mentioned leaving it.
"I asked Maya later."
Mrs. Gable's eyes filled with sadness.
"Do you know what she told me?"
Richard slowly shook his head.
"She said..."
Mrs. Gable struggled to maintain her composure.
"...'Books teach little girls to dream.'"
"'Eleanor says dreaming makes children ungrateful.'"
Richard lowered his head into his hands.
Sarah had spent every evening reading stories to Maya.
She believed imagination made children brave.
Eleanor had taken that away too.
A gentle knock interrupted the silence.
A young teacher stepped inside.
"I'm sorry to interrupt."
She smiled warmly at Maya.
"Good morning."
Then she looked at Richard.
"I'm Emily Carter."
"I teach Maya's class."
Richard stood and shook her hand.
"Thank you for everything you've done."
Emily smiled faintly.
"I wish I'd done more."
She carried a large folder.
"I thought you should have these."
Inside were dozens of drawings Maya had made throughout the year.
Almost every picture showed the same three people.
Richard.
Sarah.
Maya.
There was never a fourth figure.
Emily pointed to the final drawing.
"This one concerned me."
Richard looked carefully.
The picture showed a little girl standing inside a small gray box.
Outside the box stood a man searching with a flashlight.
Above them, a woman painted the windows black.
In the corner, Maya had written one sentence.
"Daddy can't find me because the house is too dark."
Richard felt tears roll freely down his face.
He finally understood.
Maya had been asking for help all along.
Not with words.
With drawings.
With letters.
With journals.
With silence.
Every cry had reached someone.
Teachers.
Counselors.
The housekeeper.
Everyone except the one person she had been calling for.
Her father.
As Richard carefully gathered the letters and drawings, Mrs. Gable placed one final document on top of the stack.
It wasn't a school report.
It was a business card.
Across the front was printed:
Detective Olivia Bennett
Child Protection Division
Richard looked at the counselor.
Mrs. Gable met his eyes steadily.
"I called her this morning."
"You'll be hearing from her today."
Richard stared at the card.
This was no longer just a family tragedy.
May you like
It had become a criminal investigation.
And somewhere across town, Detective Bennett was already beginning to ask questions that Eleanor Sterling might not be able to answer.
