The big projection screen suddenly showed Melissa’s face.
At first she smiled, thinking it was some kind of cute parent moment.
Then the principal said slowly, “I know you.”
The room went quiet.
Melissa laughed nervously. “Excuse me?”
He stepped closer to the audience.
“You’re Melissa.”
“Yes,” she said stiffly. “And this feels very inappropriate.”
He ignored that.
“I knew their mother,” he said, gesturing toward me and Ethan. “She volunteered here constantly. She raised money for the school. She talked about her kids all the time—and about the savings she set aside for their futures.”
Melissa’s face drained of color.
“This isn’t your business,” she snapped.
“It became my business when I heard a student almost skipped prom because she was told there was no money for a dress.”
Whispers spread through the room.
“And then I heard,” he continued, “that her younger brother made one for her using their late mother’s jeans.”
Now everyone was staring.
Melissa snapped, “You’re turning gossip into a spectacle.”
“No,” he replied calmly. “Mocking a child for wearing something made from her mother’s clothes would already be cruel. Doing it while controlling money meant for those children is worse.”
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