Page 81 of The Silence Between

Contingency planning necessary for approaching household transition with oldest minor achieving majority status...

Relief and anxiety fought for dominance in my chest. We'd avoided immediate disaster, but the “recommendations” requiring response before final determination meant we weren't safe yet. Just another hoop to jump through, another performance to maintain, another chance for it all to fall apart if I missed a single detail.

I grabbed a notepad and started listing the requirements methodically. Each item needed a response strategy, a cost estimate, and implementation timeline. My mind automatically calculated available resources against necessary expenditures.

As I worked, my thoughts drifted to Ethan. He would know exactly what educational documentation would satisfy their requirements for Diego. His professional perspective would lend credibility to our response that my position as night janitor couldn't provide.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I reached for my phone. My finger hovered over Ethan's name in my contacts when the screen lit up with an incoming call from Riverton High. My stomach dropped.

“Mr. Reyes?. I need you to come to the district administration building immediately.”

“I'll be right there,” I said, the words automatic while my mind raced through logistics. Call the diner to reschedule my shift. Text Mari to pick up Sophie after school. Cancel the electrician coming to fix the outlet flagged in the inspection.

As I grabbed my keys, the letter from the inspector slipped to the floor. I stared at it for a beat before picking it up, folding it carefully, and placing it in my back pocket. One crisis at a time. Always one crisis at a time.

The district administration building loomed gray and imposing against the cloudy afternoon sky, its concrete brutalism a fitting backdrop for the ambush I was walking into. I knew it was a trap the moment Principal Rodriguez had called. Regular disciplinary meetings happened at school, not district headquarters. When she'd mentioned Townsend would be present “as a concerned board member,” all my internal alarms had triggered.

The conference room setup confirmed my suspicions. Townsend sat at the head of the table like he owned the place, Rodriguez to his right looking uncomfortable, and a woman I recognized as a social services supervisor to his left. A thick folder labeled “Reyes, D.” sat before Townsend, suspiciously comprehensive for a meeting called the same day as the “incident.” Either the man worked at superhuman speed, or this ambush had been planned well in advance. I was betting on door number two.

“Mr. Reyes, thank you for coming on such short notice,” Townsend said with practiced concern that never reached his eyes. “Please, have a seat.”

I remained standing, scanning the room with what I hoped looked like calm confidence rather than the bubbling anxiety I actually felt. “I'd like to understand why this meeting is taking place here rather than at the school, and why a social services representative is present for what was described as a disciplinary discussion.”

Rodriguez shifted uncomfortably, like someone sitting on a thumbtack. “Mr. Reyes, given the pattern of behavioral concerns with Diego, we felt a more comprehensive approach was warranted.”

“Pattern?” I kept my voice level despite the anger starting to simmer just below the surface. “This is the second incident this year, following years of exemplary behavior. That's not a pattern, it's an adolescent responding to targeted harassment.”

Townsend's smile tightened. “Perhaps we should discuss the specific concerns before drawing conclusions.” He opened the folder with theatrical deliberation that made me want to roll my eyes. “Diego has shown increasing signs of aggression, academic inconsistency, and social withdrawal. Given his learning differences and the... unique home situation, we're concerned about adequate support structures.”

Each observation contained just enough truth to sting while being deliberately stripped of context. Yes, Diego had pushed back against a bully who'd been tormenting him about our family. Yes, his grades fluctuated in subjects affected by his processing disorder when proper accommodations weren't provided. Yes, he sometimes withdrew when overwhelmed by sensory input in crowded school environments.

But framed as Townsend presented them, these became evidence of inadequate home support rather than normal teenage behavior or educational system failures. The man could spin reality like a DJ at a dance club.

I sat down slowly, recognizing that standing might appear defensive. “Let's be specific about today's incident and appropriate responses before broadening the discussion to general concerns.”

“Of course,” Townsend said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. “Diego was involved in a physical altercation with another student today. According to witnesses, he initiated the contact.”

“What exactly happened?” I asked, keeping my voice carefully neutral while mentally counting to ten.

“He shoved Trevor Phillips into a locker during passing period,” Rodriguez explained, looking uncomfortable. “Trevor claims it was unprovoked.”

“And did anyone ask Diego what happened?” I kept my tone even, though my jaw was starting to ache from clenching it.

“He claims Trevor was making comments about your father,” Rodriguez said, glancing at Townsend. “But regardless of provocation, physical aggression is against school policy.”

“I understand that,” I said. “Diego knows that too. But context matters. Was this investigated as a potential bullying situation?”

“Mr. Reyes,” Townsend cut in, “we're not here to place blame. We're here to address concerning behaviors that suggest Diego may need additional support.” The condescension in his tone made my teeth itch.

“Such as?” I prompted, feeling my patience start to fray around the edges.

“His academic performance has been inconsistent,” the social services woman offered, speaking for the first time. “Particularly in subjects requiring sustained focus.”

“Diego has a documented processing disorder,” I countered, my voice getting slightly tighter. “His IEP specifically addresses accommodations needed for those subjects. When those accommodations are provided consistently, his performance stabilizes.”

“Are you suggesting the school is failing to provide required accommodations?” Townsend asked with raised eyebrows, the trap evident in his tone.

“I'm suggesting that Diego's academic fluctuations correlate directly with implementation of his IEP accommodations,” I replied carefully. “As documented in his quarterly progress reports.”

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