"Margot, you've got some nerve showing up here."
"Look at the daughter you raised—stealing at her age!"
The homeroom teacher was a woman in her forties named Ivy Lambert. She pushed her glasses up and looked at me with undisguised contempt.
"Ms. Fox, I understand you're a busy executive, always chasing the next dollar."
"But you can't neglect your child's upbringing."
"Blanche says Irene stole her diamond necklace—worth fifty thousand dollars."
"We have witnesses and evidence. What do you have to say for yourself?"
I looked around the room at this little circus.
"Witnesses? Evidence? Where?"
Ms. Lambert gestured to a group of girls standing nearby.
They wore their uniforms hemmed short, faces touched with makeup—clearly Blanche's crew.
One of them stepped forward and pointed at Irene.
"I saw it with my own eyes! Irene went through Blanche's bag while she was at PE!"
"Yeah! I saw it too!"
"Irene's always been jealous of Blanche. She says Blanche stole her mom—this is obviously revenge!"
They piled on, one after another, throwing accusations like mud.
Irene gripped my hand tight, trembling, shaking her head desperately.
"I didn't... I didn't steal anything..."