Chapter 10 — The Call I’m Required to Make

On my lunch break I locked the classroom door, sat down, and called Child Protective Services.

I didn’t soften anything.

I described the pain, the drawing, the grip at the gate, the mother’s excuse, and the principal’s explicit pressure to let it go.

“Are you a mandated reporter?” the intake worker asked, her keyboard going in the background.

“I am.” “Then you’ve done exactly what the law requires of you,” she said.