Chapter 6: Maya’s Mother
For a moment, the front office seemed to go quiet around us. Lily held her phone with both hands, staring at the screen. I could see a photograph, but not enough to understand when or where it had been taken.
“Can I see?” I asked.
She hesitated, then tipped the screen toward me. The post used Maya’s picture beneath a claim that she had disappeared. I didn’t read the comments. I didn’t want Lily to have to watch me react to every cruel word, and I didn’t want to turn a frightening claim into a spectacle at the reception desk.
“Do you know when that picture was taken?” I asked.
“No.”
“Do you know who posted it?”
She shook her head.
“Then we don’t know what it means yet. Let’s keep the evidence, but not send it around.”
Lily locked her phone. Her fingers were trembling.
The counselor had been walking with us toward the office. She stopped a few feet away, leaving space for Lily rather than reaching for the phone.
“Would you like to call Carla?” she asked.
Lily looked at me. I waited.
“Yes,” she said. “But tell her what’s happening. Don’t show her the post without asking me.”
“I won’t,” I said.
The counselor offered us a quiet office. Lily declined. She didn’t want another room at school, even one with a kind adult in it. So we stood near the front desk while I called Carla, keeping my voice low.
She didn’t answer. I left a short message: there was a new post claiming Maya was missing, we didn’t know whether it was true, and she should call me as soon as she could. I said Lily was with me. I didn’t describe the photograph.
The counselor asked whether we wanted the school to contact Carla too. I said yes. She stepped away to speak with the assistant principal, and I put my phone down.
Lily stared at the floor.
“I should’ve made her tell her mom,” she said.
“You tried to help her. That isn’t the same as having the power to make her tell anyone.”
“I could’ve told you sooner.”
“Yes,” I said carefully. “You could have. And I wish you had. But I understand why you thought you had to protect her.”
Lily’s eyes lifted to mine.
“I thought if I told you, you’d call the school, and they’d make her go back. Or they’d ask her about the video in front of people.”
“I can’t promise every adult will get it right,” I said. “But I can promise we’ll ask what Maya wants before we tell her story. We can still get help without making her explain everything to everyone.”
She swallowed. “I should’ve known that.”
“You’re thirteen, Lily. You shouldn’t have had to figure all of this out by yourself.”
My phone rang. Carla’s name appeared on the screen, and I answered immediately.
“Olivia?”
Her voice was strained and breathless, as if she’d been moving while she spoke.
“I’m here. Are you safe?”
“I’m in my car. I’ve been looking everywhere I can think of. Her friend’s house, the park, the bus stop she uses sometimes. I went home again in case she’d come back while I was out.”
“Did she?”
“No.” Carla paused. I heard a turn signal clicking. “I keep thinking I should have noticed. She’d been quieter, but I thought she was tired. I asked if something was wrong, and she said school was fine.”
I looked at Lily. She was watching me, listening without moving.
“We’ve just seen a post saying Maya disappeared,” I said. “It has a picture of her, but we don’t know when it was taken or whether the claim is true. I didn’t send it to anyone.”
Carla exhaled sharply.
“They’re posting about her being missing now?”
“We don’t know who’s behind it. The school has the screenshots Lily saved, and they agreed to look into them. I asked them to check whether they’d reached you. The counselor is asking the assistant principal to contact you now.”
“I called the school before. I told them I couldn’t find her.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
There was a brief silence. Carla’s breath hitched.
“I’m not asking you to apologize,” she said. “I’m trying to work out how I missed it. How I could let her get to this point without understanding.”
“You’re trying to find her now. That matters. And we don’t know everything yet.”
Carla gave a small, humorless laugh. “I know. I just keep replaying every conversation, looking for the one where I should have understood.”
I knew that kind of searching. I had spent days questioning Lily’s calm voice, the neat bed, every ordinary thing that might have hidden a warning. Finding someone to blame would have felt easier than sitting with how little I knew.
“I have screenshots of some of the messages and the edited video,” I said. “Lily agreed I could save them for the school. If you want to see them, I can show you privately. I don’t want to pass them around or decide what Maya should tell you.”
“Thank you,” Carla said. “I want to know what happened. But first I want to find her.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll call you back.”
The call ended. I didn’t ask her to keep us updated every minute, though I wanted to. She was Maya’s mother; she deserved room to search in the way she thought best. I could offer help without taking the search away from her.
Lily wrapped her arms around herself.
“Do you think she ran away?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Could she have gone somewhere because she thinks everyone’s looking at her?”
“That’s possible,” I said. “It’s also possible the post is wrong. We shouldn’t decide before we know.”
Lily nodded, but the tension stayed in her face.
The counselor returned and told us the assistant principal was contacting Carla. She asked Lily whether she wanted to wait in the counselor’s office or go outside with me. Lily chose outside.
We walked to the small paved area beside the entrance. The air felt cool after the school’s overheated hallway. I kept my phone in my hand but resisted checking it every few seconds. Lily sat on the low stone wall. She left a careful space between us.
“I didn’t want to make things worse for Maya,” she said.
“I know.”
“I thought if I just stayed with her, she wouldn’t have to be alone.”
“That was kind. It was also too much for you to carry without help.”
She looked down at her shoes. “I didn’t think of it like that.”
“I should’ve asked more questions when you started losing weight and not sleeping,” I said. “I told myself it was stress because that answer was easier. That doesn’t make what you did safe, but I don’t want us pretending only one of us got things wrong.”
Lily’s mouth tightened. She didn’t forgive me, and I didn’t ask her to. We sat there together, our phones quiet, each waiting for news.
About twenty minutes later, mine rang again.
Carla’s voice was different—still shaken, but steadier.
“I found her.”
I stood. “Where?”
“At the public library. She’s there now. She’s safe.” Carla let out a breath that sounded like it had been trapped in her chest for hours. “She went there because she didn’t want to be around the kids from school. She didn’t want anyone following her or asking questions.”
Lily closed her eyes, relief washing over her so suddenly she leaned forward, elbows on her knees.
“Is she alone?” I asked.
“She was sitting near the front. I’m with her now.” Carla paused. “She won’t say much yet. I’m trying not to push.”
“You’re doing the right thing.”
“I told her you and Lily are here. She asked if we could meet, but she’s scared you’ll all decide what happens next before she gets a say.”
“We won’t,” I said. “I can come to the library with Lily, if Maya wants us there. We can listen. We don’t have to ask her to explain the post.”
“I’ll tell her.”
Carla stayed on the line. In the background, I heard the low murmur of a public place, then her voice grew quieter.
“She says she’ll meet you both. But she wants one thing clear first.”
“What is it?”
May you like
Carla relayed the question. I could hear the strain in her voice as she tried to repeat Maya’s words exactly.
“She says she’ll meet us at the library,” Carla said. “But she asks that nobody make her return to class immediately.”
