That afternoon, Lena received a call from the professional association she had left behind.
A former colleague had heard about the municipal hearing and wanted to know whether she would consider returning to investigative work.
He described an upcoming project and said her experience would be valuable.
Lena listened politely.
She could imagine herself back in a conference room, surrounded by photographs and timelines, asking the questions nobody wanted to answer.
Part of her missed the clarity of that work.
Another part remembered the cost.
“I’m not ready to return full-time,” she said.
“Would you consider advising on a limited project?” he asked.
Lena looked through the window at Malik carrying a tray of seedlings toward the garden.
“Send me the scope,” she replied.
“I’ll decide after I read it.”
She ended the call and stepped outside.
Malik handed her a small pot of thyme.
“I thought you needed another responsibility,” he said.
Lena laughed.
“This one looks manageable.”
“It only needs sunlight and water.”
“That is exactly what people say before something complicated happens.”
“You can investigate the thyme if you want.”
She set the pot beside the rosemary.
“I’d rather watch it grow.”
Chapter Thirteen Z: The Missing Apology
Aisha found Celia waiting outside the school one afternoon.
Celia stood beside a bench with her hands clasped so tightly that her knuckles looked pale.
Aisha had just collected her son from an after-school activity.
She stopped when Celia called her name.
“I wanted to explain the petition,” Celia said.
Aisha asked her son to wait beside the school office where a staff member could see him.
Then she returned to the bench.
“I’m listening,” she said.
Celia explained that she had intended to improve the school bus route and had believed the parents would approve once they saw the proposed changes.
Aisha waited until she finished.
“You asked me to sign a blank form,” she said.
“I planned to fill in the details.”
“After I signed?”
Celia looked away.
“You knew I would object if I saw the address,” Aisha continued.
“That’s why you didn’t write it down.”
Celia shook her head.
“I was trying to keep the process moving.”
“You were trying to make my signature mean something I hadn’t agreed to.”
The words hung between them.
Celia looked toward the school entrance.
“Everyone thinks I wanted to hurt children,” she said.
“I never wanted that.”
“Then tell the district exactly what you did.
”
“I already spoke with them.”
“Did you tell them about the blank form?”
Celia did not answer.
Aisha picked up her bag.
“You keep asking people to judge your intentions,” she said.
“I need you to be truthful about your actions.”
She walked back to her son before Celia could respond.
