The Hour I First Believed

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Mo said her colleague, Sandy Hailey, saw what was happening and tried to short-circuit the ridiculing without drawing attention to it. “Why don’t you take your break now, Mrs. Quirk?” she said. “I can hold down the fort here, and then later on, you can spell me.” Ordinarily, Maureen didn’t take a break during fifth hour, but she mouthed a silent thank-you to Sandy and grabbed her purse. She suggested to Velvet that they head upstairs to the library, where they could fill out the readmission materials and pay the book fines.

Louise Rogers was working the circulation desk. She typed Velvet’s name into the computer. “Wow,” she said. “Says here you owe us twenty-nine dollars and sixty cents. I believe that makes you this year’s grand champion.” Maureen said she smiled at the joke; Velvet scowled. “Tell you what,” Louise said. “Why don’t we just round this off to twenty dollars and call it even?” Maureen thanked her and took out her wallet. Velvet fished into her pocket and slammed a fistful of loose change onto the desk. “She comes off so hostile,” Mo told the investigators. She promised herself she’d address the subject with Velvet—maybe sit out in the sun with her for a little while after they’d finished the forms. She’d treat her to lunch. Get yogurts or sandwiches in the cafeteria and take them outside.