“You and another student caught it.”
Julian frowned.
“Ethan helped.”
“And then?”
Julian rubbed his palms against his pajama pants.
“There were some kids around. Maya was upset. She told everybody to go away.”
I could picture it too easily: the bright school corridor, backpacks, sneakers, voices echoing against lockers, Maya struggling not to become a spectacle.
“So I stayed,” he continued. “Ethan went to get Mr. Pollard. Maya’s dad couldn’t leave work, so the school found a temporary chair in the nurse’s office.”
“And that,” I said slowly, “is when you decided to buy one?”
Julian nodded.
The officers exchanged another glance.
I was beginning to dislike those glances.
“What are you not saying?”
Daniels hesitated.
“Maya’s old chair didn’t simply fail.”
Silence settled over our hallway.
“What does that mean?”
“When Mr. Ortiz examined it last night, he noticed something unusual around the front caster assembly. He called the wheelchair supplier. They asked him to send photographs.”
