My mind jumped to Sophie’s rehearsed smile. “I just like to be clean.”
“No,” I whispered. “She hasn’t said anything. She barely talks lately.”
Principal Morris slid a folder across the desk. Inside were anonymized notes—stories that were horrifyingly similar. Children describing a man with a staff badge telling them they had “stains” or “smelled,” guiding them to a side bathroom near the gym, handing them paper towels, sometimes tugging at their clothes “to check.” He warned them, “If your parents find out, you’ll get in trouble.”
I felt sick. “That’s grooming,” I said, my voice shaking.
Ms. Reyes nodded. “We believe so.”
I forced myself to breathe. “Why wasn’t this stopped sooner?”
Principal Morris’s eyes filled. “We suspended him yesterday while investigating. But we didn’t have physical evidence. The kids were scared. Some parents assumed it was about hygiene. We needed something concrete.”
I looked down at the fabric again, my throat burning. “So Sophie was trying to wash it away.”
Ms. Reyes spoke softly. “Children often bathe immediately after something invasive because they feel contaminated. It’s not about being dirty. It’s about trying to regain control.”