Page 53 of For Your Own Good

“I can’t believe they called me,” Sonia says. “The fact that any of us have to testify against one of our students is just... abhorrent.” She’s dressed in black, again, just like she has been since Courtney was arrested. Some say it’s because she’s in mourning. Others say it’s because she’s been gaining so much weight.

Frank doesn’t care. He just wants her to shut up.

“I heard they’re going to call Nari, too,” someone says. Nari is a history teacher, and like Sonia, she’s a faculty liaison to the Collaborative.

“I bet a lot of parents will be testifying, too,” another teacher says.

“What about the students?” Sonia says. “Some of them must be testifying for the defense.”

“I certainly hope so,” says Louella Mason. She’s an art teacher with a self-proclaimed old soul. On more than one occasion, Louella has burst into huge, wracking sobs while talking about Courtney. This is one of those occasions.

Everyone has something to say. A lot to say, actually.

Except God. He isn’t talking to Frank anymore.

“I’m going back to my classroom,” Frank says to Teddy. “Get some work done.”

“I don’t blame you.”

Back at his desk, Frank checks his phone. There’s a message from his wife, asking him to pick up a cheese grater on his way home from work. The request is so mundane, so normal, it makes him feel a little bit better.

He reads the Bible on his phone until his fifth-period class starts.

1 John 1:9.But if we confess our sins to him, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness.

Frank doesn’t feel the forgiveness. He reads the passage over and over again but still feels nothing.

AP Calculus. The same one Courtney used to be in. Her desk still sits empty. He tried to move it once, but a student asked him not to. She said Courtney would be back soon and he should leave it, so he did.

The empty desk bothers him. When he stands at the front of the class, he sees it out of the corner of his eye.

Today, he sees Courtney sitting there. Right where she should be.

When he looks directly, the desk is empty.

A few minutes later, he sees her again out of the corner of his eye. She sits up tall and straight, her hair pulled back tight, her shirt crisp and ironed. When he looks straight at the desk, she disappears.

He sees her three more times before class ends. Once, Frank almost speaks to her before she vanishes.

As the students leave, he slumps in his chair, exhausted. His eyes are just playing tricks on him—that’s all. Those weren’t hallucinations. He refuses to call them that.

SONIA BOUGHT FOURTEENpossible outfits to wear in court. She tries each one on, takes a selfie, and loads the photos onto the computer. One by one, she goes through them, trying to decide which outfit makes her serious but not somber, intelligent but not unstylish. And thin. Or at least thinner than she is. It’s so unfortunate real life doesn’t have filters.

“I think I have to go shopping again,” she says.

“Again?” her husband says.

She looks up, surprised he answered. Surprised to see Mark sitting beside her on the couch. She didn’t realize he was even there.

Eating ice cream.

“Can you do that in the kitchen?” she says.

“What? Eat?”

“Yes.”

He shrugs. “I won’t spill any.”