But I didn’t stop. There was more to say. “Mom, you have to grow up now. I feel like I’m the only adult in the house sometimes and I am, I’m, it’s . . .” And then I started crying. It was the last thing I wanted to do because it made me feel so naked and exposed, but I couldn’t help it. “Sometimes I feel like I am cracking under all the pressure. I love Zac so much, I do, but I shouldn’t be the one reminding you to do his OT homework at night. Sometimes I feel like my life is not mine. I feel invisible to you and Dad, and you don’t care about my feelings. All you care about is yourself, being Barbara Palmer of Palm Luxury Realty. I feel forgotten, and maybe that’s why I did all that stuff, Rose, Natasha.” I turned to the policewoman now. “At least I could make someone else less forgotten. I could give someone else a voice, because I was voiceless.” I wiped my tears and squared off in front of my mother. Her eyes were shining now, too, and I wasn’t sure if it was sadness or if she was just embarrassed. We looked at each other for the longest time, the tension in the room buzzing and crackling with a static energy that felt like it was giving me short, sharp, painful shocks. And then, when it felt like the tension had to subside or it would explode the air around me, four faces appeared by the door. They were all wide-eyed and worried-looking. Jake stepped forward.

“I helped with one of the paintings! It wasn’t just her,” he shouted into the room.

“Jake? What are you talking about?” The principal stepped forward.

“The painting on the museum wall, of Natasha. I was there too. I also participated, so if you’re punishing her, you can punish me too.” He stepped into the office. And then Guy also stepped forward.

“Me too. I was also there. You can punish me too!”

And just as soon as he was finished, Thembi stepped forward too.

“Sorry, who are you?” Mr. Du Preez asked, staring at Guy.

“We’re both guilty,” Jake said, looking at the policewoman now.

The principal let out a loud, long sigh. “Out! All of you, out. Just leave. Get out of my office.” He waved his arm in the air as if he was fed up with this whole thing. He probably was.

I looked over at the policewoman one more time, and she gave a small nod, as if concurring. So we did—we all turned and walked out.

“Where do you think you’re going?” my mom asked, her voice quivering.

“I’m going with my friends,” I replied.