I begin my cross-examination.

“How many students were caught drinking?”

“Six. Three boys and three girls, including Tegan.”

“And all five of these students claimed Tegan provided the alcohol?”

The principal shifts in his chair, clearly uncomfortable. I imagine he’s used to parents being intimidated when he charges their children with wrong-doings. But my attorney-at-law persona is formidable, and the tables have turned on poor Mr. Wentworth. He’s no idea what’s about to get to him.

“No,” he admits. “The boys refused to name any names. But the two girls clearly stated in separate interviews that your daughter—”

“And were the suspects kept apart at all times before these interrogations?”

“No, of course not, we don’t have the facilities for—”

“So it’s possible they agreed beforehand to blame my daughter?”

“Yes, but—”

“Have you asked Tegan if she’s responsible for bringing alcohol to school?”

“Yes, and Tegan has denied it. But she’s also refused to reveal the culprit, which is highly suspicious.”

I stare at my daughter now. She looks mortified, but her lips are locked in a tight, stubborn line that tells me she’s not going to rat out her friends to get off the hook. Not the smartest decision, but I’m aware of how complex high school social hierarchy can be. And since boys are involved… I remember what it was to be fifteen and have a crush—the stupid things one could do to impress a boy.

Even if Tegan is not willing to help herself, she’s lucky she has me as her last line of defense.

“Are the three boys involved facing expulsion as well?”

“No, they weren’t named as the culprits.”

“But they also refused to provide a name, same as my daughter. And are these two girls accusing Tegan friends, by any chance?”

“I can’t presume to know the relationships linking each student in this school.”

I give him a flat look. “You’re telling me it’s impossible to determine whether or not those two girls are friends? Just ask the teachers, the canteen staff, and their peers, it should be a simple enough connection to investigate.”

I stare at Tegan again, forcing her to look up at me for the first time since I arrived with the intensity of my gaze. Reddened blue-gray eyes huge with fear meet mine. “Are these two girls friends?” I ask her directly.

Tegan gives me the smallest nod, but it’s enough.

“There you have it,” I say to the principal. “Mr. Wentworth, their testimony must be disregarded. It’s unreliable at best, and I’d go as far as saying intentionally fraudulent in the worst case. Both witnesses were caught red-handed, are renowned cohorts, and had a pretty obvious motive to make a scapegoat out of my daughter. Other than their word, do you have any other evidence Tegan introduced the alcohol at school?”

Mr. Wentworth’s lips are tight. “No.”