At two fifteen that afternoon, I was back in my home office, watching the second hand sweep around the face of the wall clock.

My desk phone buzzed twice against the wooden blotter.

I picked up the receiver on the third ring.

“Clara, it’s Brenda from the elementary school office,” she said.

Her voice was clear and measured, with no personal warmth and no open hostility.

“Hi, Brenda,” I said.

“The school district’s administrative officer has scheduled our formal safety compliance review for tomorrow morning, January nineteenth, at nine o’clock,” she said.

I heard the faint rustle of her notepad being squared against the edge of her desk in the main office.