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ABBY LESTER IS coming back to school,” Monica says, filling the doorway to my office. “Just part-time for now, but it’s a start.”

“That’s great.” And it is, but I’m taken by surprise. As Abby’s school counselor, I should have been aware of this. I’ve been corresponding with her parents, sending homework to her, ensuring she still has a chance at graduating on time. I’m the one the Lesters should have notified under normal protocols.

“It is great…” Monica trails off, squeezing into my cramped space. The guest chair must be shifted in order to close the door, and I reach across to help her move it. When the door clicks shut, the vice principal takes a seat across from me.

“The family has requested that Abby be assigned a different counselor.”

My stomach twists. “Why?”

Monica sighs. “Abby won’t tell them why, but Rebecca and Craig want to abide by their daughter’s wishes. And given her fragile state, we think it’s wise.”

“Of… of course. We need to do what’s best for Abby.”

“Ramona has agreed to take over.” Ramona is the counselor for the prior year’s students. “She’ll ease Abby back into her classes and support her emotionally. But you still have a role to play here.”

“I do?” I feel rejected, set adrift, like I just watched my prom date leave with another girl.

“I’d like you to talk to Fiona and the other girls about Abby’s return. Make sure they’ll be kind to her. And sensitive to the situation.”

It’s like asking an orca to hug a seal. “I’ll do my best,” I promise.

“Thanks.” Monica’s knees bump against my desk as she stands. “Don’t take it personally, Camryn. Abby’s traumatized and there might be some transference going on.”

“Could Ramona ask Abby why she doesn’t want to work with me?”

“I don’t think that’s really a priority right now. Do you?”

“No.” I feel subtly scolded for my self-interest. “It’s not.”

I sit and watch the vice principal struggle to get out of my office.

After lunch, I summon Fiona Carmichael and her two sidekicks to the counseling suite. Lily Mathers is a willowy girl with the blankly hostile gaze of a runway model, while Mysha Naz is the alternative member of the trio, with a septum piercing and intense eye makeup. There isn’t room in my office for all four of us, so I take them to a chain coffee shop a few blocks from the school. The less formal environment will set the tone for a warm, productive conversation about kindness, decency, and compassion.

When we’re seated at a round table, and the girls have sugary, whipped cream concoctions before them, I broach the subject. “Abby’s coming back to school soon.”

“That’s good,” Fiona says, her smile so convincing. “I’m glad she’s getting over it.”

“Me too,” echoes Lily. Despite excellent grades, the girl seems incapable of original thoughts or opinions when surrounded by her cohort.

“She has a long road ahead of her,” I say. “She suffered something very traumatic. I hope I can count on you all to be kind and supportive.”

“Of course,” Mysha says, whipped cream on her top lip. “We’ll be super supportive.”

“Totally,” Fiona says, and Lily murmurs her affirmation.

And I actually believe them. They are only girls themselves, capable of learning from past behaviors, of developing empathy and understanding. “Thanks, girls. Your kindness and encouragement will really help with her recovery. Hopefully she can put that night behind her and get back on track.”

Fiona sips her frothy drink. “Will you be helping her, Ms. Lane?”

“Of course. The whole school community needs to pull together to be there for her.”

“But are you still Abby’s counselor?” There is the slightest arch of amusement to one eyebrow, a subtle glimmer in her eye.

She knows. But how? Monica just told me that the Lesters had asked another counselor to replace me. How could Fiona Carmichael know this? Unless…

“Have you been talking to Abby?” My tone is more accusatory than I intended.

“A bit. I just wanted to check in. Make sure she’s okay.”

“Do Abby’s parents know you’ve been in contact with her?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know what Abby tells her parents.”

“Can we go now, Ms. Lane?” It’s Mysha. “I’ve got history next, and I can’t miss.”

“Okay,” I say, suddenly flustered. “I appreciate you all being so mature about this. And supporting Abby’s return to school.”

Under the screech of chairs on the floor, they mumble their agreement. But I clock the subtle glances darting among them, the secrets unspoken.

Fiona and Mysha lead the way back to school, with Lily and me a few paces behind. It’s my job to support every student in the grade, to be a sounding board, a support system. So I ask, “How are you, Lily? Everything going okay with your classes?”

“Yeah…” She sounds unsure, but I realize that’s how she always sounds.

“Good. If you need anything, I’m available.”

“’Kay.”

We walk in silence for nearly a block before the tall girl speaks again. “Why is Abby coming back to Maple Heights?” she asks, her voice hushed. “Why doesn’t she go to a different school?”

I’ve been wondering the same thing. “I guess her parents think the continuity is important with her classes. And her friends are at Maple Heights.”

“She doesn’t have friends here.” Lily’s voice is just above a whisper. “She should go to a different school.”

“Why?” I match her volume. “Do you know something, Lily?”

We’re approaching the school now, and Fiona turns, beckons for Lily to catch up.

“Come see me,” I say quickly. “Say it’s for your courses.”

But Lily doesn’t answer. She hurries to join the pack.