Yes, I would. Your son came to me a month or so ago after class, I said, holding her gaze. He told me he’d been distracted during my lessons because he wasn’t sleeping, and I asked him—

This noise business is your doing, you put this in his head, she said, cutting me off.

Valeria gestured to the chairs she’d assembled. Why don’t we all sit down, shall we?

I told Brenda I had never spoken with Kyle about the noise before he approached me, and I looked to him for confirmation about this, but he was staring down at his hands.

He never once talked about this noise before you, she said. He never even mentioned it and then all of a sudden—She splayed her hands towards Kyle, as if his physical being was all the argument she needed to make. She grabbed a chair and sat down, and the rest of us followed suit.

Can you hear this noise right now? Valeria asked me. I told her that I could. She turned to Kyle and asked if he could too. He looked up but seemed unsure what to say.

Brenda motioned to him—No, you see?

I can, he replied.

Brenda turned and leaned in towards Kyle. You can, what? That’s not what you said two hours ago. He sighed and shrugged, and Brenda turned to me, eyes wide. Y’see, you’re putting this in his head, she said. Look at him. He has no energy, he’s tired, he’s depressed. His grades are through the floor. He doesn’t listen to me when I’m speaking to him, he just—She gestured off into the distance. And then I find out he’s been seeing you after class, she continued. Spending time with you in your classroom and in your car, going on drives with you in your car, when the whole time he’s been telling me he’s been at basketball.

My heart sank. She knew about the drives. How much had Kyle told her, and for the love of Christ, why?

Is this true, Claire, Valeria asked, looking pained, that you’ve been going on drives with Kyle in your car?

Yes. It is. I heard my voice as if it were thrown by a ventriloquist.

Talking about this imaginary noise, and tell her—Brenda said, turning back to Kyle—driving around looking for this sound like they’re chasing ghosts. You are insane.

Is this true? Valeria asked again.

We have gone on a couple drives after school to—I began, weakly.

How many?

Five or six.

Valeria’s eyes widened, as if I’d just said an impossibly high number. Five or six drives, she said.