Chapter 10: No More Calls Through Her
By the time Jason reached the school the next morning, Evelyn’s car was already in the drop-off lane. Maya sat rigid in the passenger seat, her backpack hugged to her chest. Evelyn was speaking close to her face, one hand on the steering wheel, the other gripping the folded school notice.
Jason stopped beside the office doors. He could hear them through the open car window.
“They can ask you where the money went,” Evelyn said. “They can decide you weren’t eligible. Your lunch, your bus pass, your supplies—none of it is guaranteed if they start digging.”
Maya stared at the dashboard. “Mrs. Ortega said my help is still in place.”
“For now.” Evelyn’s voice softened, which somehow made the warning sharper. “And if they decide this mess costs me the house, where do you think you’ll go?”
Jason took one step toward the car.
Maya looked up and saw him. Her hand lifted—not a wave, not an invitation. A small, flat stop.
He froze.
Evelyn saw him, too. Her mouth tightened before she turned back to Maya.
“Come inside,” Maya said. “I want to talk to Mrs. Ortega.”
“You need to get to class.”
“I want to talk to her.”
For a moment, neither woman moved. Then Evelyn opened the passenger door. Maya climbed out, still holding her backpack, and walked toward the office without waiting for her grandmother.
Jason let her go ahead. He did not call her name.
In the counseling office, Mrs. Ortega pulled a chair out for Maya. Evelyn remained standing, clutching the notice. Jason kept to the wall, leaving the space around Maya open.
“I want the lunch and the bus help to stay in place while you sort out the forms,” Maya said. “I didn’t write them. I didn’t tell anyone Dad sent nothing.”
Mrs. Ortega’s face softened, but her voice stayed steady. “Your support is still active. Nothing has changed since yesterday.”
Maya glanced at Evelyn. “What if they ask me questions?”
“They may ask what you remember. You can answer what you know, and you don’t have to guess about anything adults did.”
Evelyn laid the folded notice on the desk with a sharp slap. “You make it sound simple.”
“It isn’t simple for Maya,” Mrs. Ortega said. “That’s why I’m telling her she doesn’t have to carry the adults’ decisions.”
“I’m trying to keep her from being dragged through this.”
“You told her she could lose her lunch,” Jason said.
Maya’s shoulders jerked. He regretted speaking before he’d finished the sentence.
Evelyn’s eyes flashed. “Because she could.”
“You said her home could be taken, too,” Maya said. “You made it sound like I’d lose everything if I answered.”
“I said the truth. If they come after the money, they can come after the roof over our heads.”
Jason heard the fear beneath her anger, but he couldn’t tell where the fear ended and the pressure began. Evelyn’s fingers worried the edge of the notice until it bent.
Maya stood. “I’m going home.”
“Do you want me to call your first-period teacher?” Mrs. Ortega asked.
“No. I just don’t want to be here.”
Evelyn gathered the notice. “I’ll take her.”
Jason’s body leaned forward before he could stop it. The car keys pressed into his palm; he’d been holding them so tightly their teeth had marked his skin.
Maya caught his movement.
“Dad, don’t.”
Two words. No anger in them this time. Just a boundary she needed him to understand.
He let his hand fall to his side. “I won’t.”
Evelyn guided Maya toward the exit with a hand hovering near her shoulder, not quite touching. Jason followed them only with his eyes. At the doors, Mrs. Ortega stepped beside him.
“Her support is still in place,” she said quietly. “I’ll tell you if anything changes.”
He nodded. The confirmation should have settled something in him. Instead, all he could think about was Maya’s face when Evelyn mentioned the house.
“I’m not going after them,” he said.
Mrs. Ortega studied him. “She asked you not to.”
“I know.”
Outside, Evelyn’s car idled near the curb. Maya stood by the passenger door, her phone in one hand. Evelyn had already climbed into the driver’s seat, but she was watching.
Jason stayed beneath the school awning.
Maya glanced back once, then down at her screen. His phone buzzed.
Don’t come to the house. I need time. I don’t know what’s true yet.
The words hurt more than he expected. He read them twice, then typed carefully.
I won’t come. You don’t have to decide anything today.
He pressed send.
Across the lane, Maya’s phone lit in her hand. Evelyn got out of the car. She said something Jason couldn’t hear, and Maya turned the screen against her chest.
Evelyn reached for the phone.
Maya held on for a beat. Then her fingers loosened.
May you like
Evelyn took it and pressed the side button until the screen went black. She slipped it into her coat pocket, closed the car door, and drove away.
Jason’s phone remained in his palm, his answer delivered into a silence he could not cross.
