“I understand, but I’m asking you to trust me. I altered my lesson right after you first spoke with Principal McNeil. He approved the changes. And because of everything that’s transpired since, I’ve made more alterations. When I spoke with the commissioner of education, he, too, was satisfied that this will bring a positive resolution. I know you two weren’t going to attend the debate, but I’d like you to come to class. Give me a chance to make this right.”

Once again, Cade and Logan share a look. Logan’s expression gives Joe hope. It says he’s earned her trust in the past and has a good chance to earn it back. Unfortunately, Cade appears skeptical.

“What are your concerns, Cade?”

“I get that you’re going to try to fix this—”

Joe cuts him off. “I will fix this. I have a lesson planned for the debate, and it will put an end to this.”

Cade’s knee bounces. His eyes flicker to the folder. “Logan and I—” His composure cracks. His hands shake against the table. Guilt washes over Joe as he watches Cade struggle to bring his emotions in check. Mary, visibly shaken, opens a water bottle and slides it across the table to Cade. He picks it up, takes a sip, then another. After several deep breaths, he sets the bottle down. “Why should we trust you?”

“Because I care. Not only about what has transpired, but because I recognize how my actions have negatively impacted you, our school, and our community. At the very least, I want to have the opportunity to express this to the class. I promise, I will give my absolute best.”

Chapter 60: Cade

The moment I reach the bottom of the Bartleys’ porch steps, I bolt. I want to punch, smash something, anything to release the emotions I’ve felt since we sat at their dining room table.

Mr. Bartley wants our trust. He promised to do his best. But the debate is still on. I’d promised Nana I’d do everything I could to stop the debate.

It wasn’t enough.

One block, then two. Logan catches up. I don’t stop. I run and run and continue running along the tree-lined path through snow-covered Sunrise Park. I reach the center fountain and stop. I leap onto the wide marble lip, tilt my head back, and scream, “Ahhhhhhh!”

Logan’s right beside me, and just like the other night, she opens her arms wide.

This time, Logan’s the one crying.