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Halifax, June 9
8:33 a.m.
Daphne’s return was weird. Sitting in the passenger seat of her mother’s car, she watched clumps of students heading into school. She felt vulnerable and helpless, a pygmy braving giants. She imagined the snickers and the whispers and the name calling once she went inside. The safety and isolation of her home seemed so far away.
When her mother put a hand on her arm, she flinched.
“Are you okay?” Audra asked.
Daphne lowered her head and swallowed. No, she wasn’t okay. Her heart pounded. A knot of sickness tightened in her stomach. She looked over at her mother, saw the deep concern in her blue eyes. How much she wanted to tell her, to ask her for help.
Suddenly, Daphne found herself remembering the descriptive essay she’d had to write for grade 7 English last year—the person she most admired. Mom took that title. Not only the one she admired the most but loved and respected too. Mom was the perfect role model. Strong. Honest. Loving. The person Daphne most wanted to be like when she got older.
Daphne felt a painful lump swelling in her throat, and she turned her head away before her mother could see the tears forming.
“I’m fine, Mom,” she said and opened the door, pushed a leg out.
“Did you remember your note?”
Without looking back, Daphne touched her jacket pocket, heard the crumple of paper. “Yes.”
“Want me to go in with you?”
“No.” She tried to keep her voice from trembling. “I’ll be fine.”
Daphne got out of the car, feeling a bit woozy on her feet. She put a hand on top of the door to steady herself. After a brief moment, she picked her book bag off the floor and hoisted it onto her back.
“Try to have a good day, honey.”
“You too. Bye, Mom.”
Daphne shut the car door and took a deep breath of morning air. She looked straight ahead at the school entrance, that yawning mouth of a beast waiting to swallow her up. Dread flooded through her system like poison. She wanted more than anything to run, run as fast as she could away from here.
Two weeks, she told herself. Just tough it out for two more weeks.
> > > < < <
Audra watched her daughter head toward the school. Body language was hard to fake, and Daphne’s bespoke her reluctance to go inside—slow, shuffling gait, arms crossed over her stomach, head bent down, shoulders rounded. Not her usual walk at all but one of a submissive person.
Audra shook her head, puzzled. She should talk to Daphne’s teachers to see if they knew or noticed anything. Daphne’s grades were still fine. But she seemed evasive and withdrawn.
Then Audra realized Daphne’s best friend, Tabitha, hadn’t been around the house lately. They’d been friends since the fifth grade. Exchanged many sleepovers at one another’s houses. Talked nearly every night on the phone. Was that it? Had they had a fight?
Daphne paused just outside the school entryway. Mounted to the building above her head, a Canadian flag waved with the breeze.
She looked back over her shoulder. Her eyebrows were raised in the middle, and her eyes showed naked fear. The expression pierced Audra’s heart. It made her remember, as vivid as yesterday, leading a five-year-old Daphne by the hand into primary class for the first time. Her daughter was dressed in a new ruffle dress and ribbons. Her favorite toy—Polly Pocket—was tucked away in a knapsack nearly as big as her.
Some kids in the classroom clung to their parents, sobbing. Others seemed to take it all in stride, either chatting away or quietly studying their strange, new environment and the strange people in it.
The teacher came over and introduced herself. When she held out her hand for Daphne to take it, the little girl moved back a step, afraid.
“Mommy.” She looked up nervously from her mother to the teacher. Her grip squeezed Audra’s hand.
Audra knelt before her, and Daphne’s arms came tight around her neck.
“It’ll be all right, honey,” Audra said. “We prepared for this at home. Remember?”
Daphne nodded against her shoulder. Audra pulled herself back, holding Daphne to see her face.
“Go with the nice teacher,” she said. “I’ll be back to pick you up. Then you can tell me all about your day.”
Daphne gave a small nod. “Okay, Mommy.”
With some hesitance, she took the teacher’s hand. As she was led away, she looked back at Audra, who fought tears from her eyes.
Once more, Audra focused on her teenage daughter standing at the school’s entryway. Audra flashed her a smile and waved. Daphne’s own smile was slow to come and, when it did, perfunctory. She stroked a wisp of brown hair away from the side of her face. Then she squared her shoulders and disappeared through the glass doors.
Audra waited a few minutes, watching the exits. The entrance bell rang, and students who were hanging around outside started heading in.
Audra started the car and edged onto South Street. She barely assimilated the crawling traffic or the mixed group of pedestrians gathered at the crosswalks as she drove two blocks away to recanvass Todd Dory’s neighborhood.
