Chapter 4

On Friday morning, the school hallway smelled of floor wax and fresh coffee.

As I unlocked my classroom door, the morning announcements crackled over the wall speaker overhead.

"A special congratulations to fifth-grade teacher Elena Voss and her family," Principal Rhoda's voice chimed through the intercom. "Her ex-husband, Marcus Voss—the father featured in Diana Voss's bestselling parenting book—was honored last night at the Foundation Gala. Be sure to check out the spotlight on the school foundation page!"

My hand froze on the doorknob.

Before attendance, three students raised their hands—not about fractions, but to ask whether Marcus would visit career day or sign their parents' copies of the book.

I told them to put their hands down and open their math journals.

My hand pressed too hard against the dry-erase marker, leaving a thick black dot at the end of every fraction on the whiteboard.

Down the hall by the main bulletin board, two teachers stood looking at the printed social media page during recess.

"Elena!" Sarah, a fourth-grade teacher, called out. "We heard the announcement! My ex couldn't even remember lunch money. You really were lucky."

A familiar knot formed in my chest.

I walked past my classroom and pushed open the door to the principal's office.

Principal Rhoda Klein looked up from her desk, her reading glasses resting on her nose.

"Rhoda," I said quietly. "Marcus is my ex-husband. That plaque on the foundation page is not my achievement. Please take down the school's repost and remove the copy from the staff bulletin."

Rhoda blinked, caught off guard. "Elena, it's just a community spotlight piece. It reflects wonderfully on Iris—"

"Please take it down," I repeated.

Rhoda nodded slowly. "All right. I'll have the secretary remove our repost."

By lunchtime, a screenshot of the original post had circulated into the Brookside Parents Facebook group anyway.

Is it true Elena had the principal take down the gala photo? one mother posted.

Diana's book is amazing though, another commented. Maybe she just doesn't like public attention.

As I walked down the hall toward the faculty lounge, a parent standing by the main office stepped into my path.

"Elena, hi!" she said, smiling warmly as she held her phone. "Quick question—could Marcus speak at our grade-level father-daughter breakfast next month?"

"You'll have to ask Marcus," I said.

The woman blinked, her thumb hovering over her screen. "Oh. He told the committee chairperson that you handle his family schedule."

"I stopped managing Marcus three years ago," I said cleanly. "He just hasn't noticed."

She stood frozen for a second, her smile fading into awkward silence, before she slowly lowered her phone.

By the time the post reached the parent group, people were praising Marcus for respecting my boundaries after he posted a smooth statement on his public page:

Elena has always preferred to keep our family memories private. I fully respect her wish for privacy as we prepare for tomorrow's community panel.

A private message appeared on Messenger from Denise, a mother who volunteered for homeroom events.

My ex got thanked for every lunch I packed, Denise wrote. I get it, Elena. Stay strong.

My phone buzzed on my desk a minute later. It was Nora Bellamy, the producer.

"Elena," Nora said, her tone brisk. "Marcus requested to include you in the Family Stories Forum in the school auditorium tomorrow at two o'clock. Diana will be on the panel, and local parents are attending."

"I didn't agree to a public forum, Nora," I said.

"I can remove your individual interview, Elena," Nora replied. "I can't erase what happened at the gala. If you don't give me anything else on camera, the only material I have for the edit is you smiling on stage and calling him a good storyteller. If you want your words in the record, Saturday is your chance."

When I got home that afternoon, Iris was sitting at the kitchen island with her history binder.

"I'm going," she said.

"You don't have to," I said, setting my bag down.

"I know." Iris capped her pen. "But they talk differently when I'm not in the room. I want to know if they'll do it when I'm right there."