Lisa Scottoline - Save Me

“Kristen, no matter what you heard, I want you to know that I thought I got Amanda out of the building. I took her and Emily to the hallway door before I even went to get Melly, and I thought she’d keep going-”

“Wait, stop.” Kristen raised her hands. “I’m not accusing you of anything, and I know you. I know you wouldn’t just leave Amanda in a burning school. If you tried to get Amanda and the others out, then went back for Melly, no one can blame you. I don’t blame you. You couldn’t leave Melly. ” Kristen blinked. “That’s crazy! You were in a terrible position. You did your best.”

Rose felt a warm rush of gratitude. “They think I chose Melly over Amanda, but I didn’t.”

“Don’t let them get to you. No one has the facts, and I heard Emily’s traumatized. Eileen’s losing Amanda, and it’s so horrible that she’s totally crazy. Everybody’s crazy! Her, Mrs. Nuru, Mr. Rodriguez, all of them. You don’t know the half of it. My mother would say, we’re ‘undone.’ I’m ‘undone,’ and so are you.” Kristen looked up, her tired eyes glistening. “Have you told Melly about Amanda and the others?”

“Not yet, no.” Rose didn’t want to fast-forward to that conversation. “I’d like to get her home first, and get her feet under her.”

“Good. I’ll be glad to come over when you tell her. Call me, whenever. You have my cell number. I think it’s on my email to you.”

“Thanks,” Rose said, grateful. “I’ll talk to Leo, to see what he thinks.”

“We’ll have grief counselors at school, and the guidance counselor. Mrs. Nuru’s been through this, and she says the counselors really help. She’s lost three students in her time. One to leukemia, one to bone cancer, and another died in a car crash with a drunk driver.”

Rose reeled. Leukemia. Cancer. Car crash. Now, Amanda. It made a blotchy red birthmark seem like nothing. She felt tears rising, then willed them away. At least her child was alive. “How the hell do you outlive your child?” Rose asked, half to herself.

Mommy!

“Don’t ask me, I have both my parents, and my only kid is a cat.” Kristen looked down the hall, distracted, and Rose turned to see Mr. Rodriguez striding toward them. He’d been a teacher for thirty years before he became principal, and he was in his fifties, if less than fit. Six feet tall with a blocky build, he came off like everybody’s favorite uncle in a navy polo shirt that showed a paunch hanging over gray suit pants.

“Rose.” Mr. Rodriguez smiled when he reached her, but his brown eyes showed the strain. He ran a hand through short, dark hair. “I’m sorry about what happened, and I’m sorry it took me this long to come see you. How is Melly? I hear she’s on the mend.”

“Yes, thanks. We’re hoping she goes home tomorrow.”

“Wonderful.” Mr. Rodriguez’s brow relaxed, his relief genuine. “Where’s Leo?”

“Home with John, the baby.”

“Of course. Great guy. I’m so happy you were there for Melly. Your acts were positively heroic.”

Rose flushed. “I only wish I could have saved Amanda, too. I did take her and Emily to the hall leading to the playground.”

“I’m sure.” Mr. Rodriguez frowned deeply, his dark eyebrows joining like gathering nimbus clouds. “I was just upstairs. You should know that Amanda’s been given last rites.”

“Kristen told me. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s just tragic.” Mr. Rodriguez sighed. “Fortunately, Eileen’s got a lot of support, and her family will get her through whatever she has to face, whenever the time comes.”

“I can’t imagine losing a child.”

“Nor can I. My daughters are my life. I’ve had challenges in my career, but never like this. Eileen will have to go on, for her boys.” Mr. Rodriguez nodded, as if trying to cheer himself up. “You’ll find that there are real advantages to being a member of such a small community. We support each other in Reesburgh. Most of the people here have watched the Gigots grow up, and you’ll see how tight we are, when we reopen on Monday.”

“Back to school, so soon?” Rose asked, surprised.

“Routine is really the best thing for the students, and school becomes a constant in times of stress. We’ll eat in the classrooms during the clean-up and put up plywood fencing so they don’t see the cafeteria. We’ll start with half a day on Monday and dismiss at noon.” Mr. Rodriguez stuck his hands in his pockets, jingling his change. “We’re asking the parents to drive the kids in, and we’ll have a special assembly in the morning for Marylou, Serena, and Ellen.”

“When are the funerals?” Rose felt a step behind, playing catch-up.

“They’ll hold the wake on Sunday night, at Fiore’s, with private burials on Monday. We’ll have grief counselors in the auditorium for the next two weeks. The healing can begin, right away.”

“It seems soon, doesn’t it?”

“Feel free to keep Melly home if you wish, we’ll count it as excused, but if she’s well enough, I’d send her. We need her to assimilate into the school community, and I’ll look out for her, and so will the staff.” Mr. Rodriguez turned to Kristen. “You have a special relationship with Melly, don’t you?”

“Yes, I’ll take care of her.”

Mr. Rodriguez turned back to Rose. “Please, don’t think I’m callous. Under state law, we have to hold class a certain number of days, come hell or high water. We can’t afford to lose the days now, in case we get as much snow as we did last winter.”

“But it was such a big fire.” Rose flashed on the horrific scene in the cafeteria.

“Perhaps it seems that way to you, but in fact, it was fairly confined. The only damage was to the cafeteria, teachers’ lounge, and hallway, and those will all be closed.”

“What about water damage? The sprinklers went off.”

“The sprinkler system is zoned. The sprinklers went off only where there was fire.” Mr. Rodriguez straightened, his manner turning official. “I spent all afternoon yesterday with the county Fire Marshals, the Fire Chief, the state police, and the district supervisors. We even hosted the FBI. Quite the command center, for a tragedy of this scope.”

“My condolences, too.”

“Thank you.” Mr. Rodriguez pursed his thin lips. “The Fire Marshals have already certified the rest of the building as structurally sound, and we hope to rebuild the cafeteria by the end of February.”

“This time they better get the wiring right.”

“Excuse me?” Mr. Rodriguez frowned. “What makes you say that, Rose?”

Rose blinked. “I heard there was faulty wiring, maybe something left off the punch list.”

“Where’d you hear that?”

Rose hesitated, sorry she’d mentioned anything, but Kristen answered, “I told her.”

Mr. Rodriguez turned to the teacher, his eyes hardening. “Kristen, this is a difficult situation, with three fatalities, and there shouldn’t be any idle speculation about its causes, especially from my own staff. The cause of the explosion and fire haven’t been determined as yet.”

Rose interjected, “I asked her. She wasn’t speculating.”

“Just the same.” Mr. Rodriguez’s gaze bored into Kristen, then shifted back to Rose, his brow relaxing just a little. “We’ve all been instructed by legal counsel not to discuss the particulars of this tragedy with anyone. You can imagine, with three families grieving and two children in the hospital, even Melly, that we need to keep an even keel, going forward.” Mr. Rodriguez squared his shoulders. “Rose, I have my work cut out for me, this weekend. I’d like to say hello to Melly, if that’s okay with you, and then we’ll go. Kristen, you’ll leave with me, please.”