“She needs to know,” the principal said.
“She’s busy.”
“I know.”
“She’ll think I lost the money.”
The principal pulled a chair closer but did not sit until Mateo looked at her.
“No,” she said. “I am going to tell her that you delivered it exactly where you were told.”
Mateo’s throat tightened.
He looked down at his clean spoon, which he was still carrying without realizing it.
Mr. Bell gently took it from his hand and placed it on the desk.
Mateo’s mother arrived forty minutes later in her nursing shoes.
She had not changed out of her uniform. Her hair was still tied back from work, and a crease from a mask crossed one cheek. She moved quickly through the office until she saw Mateo sitting beside Mr. Bell.
He stood.
“I’m sorry,” he said automatically.
His mother stopped.
“For what?”
He could not answer.
She knelt in front of him. “Mateo. For what?”
“The lunch.”
Her face changed.
Not angry. Hurt.
She looked at the principal. “He thinks this is his fault?”
The principal explained what they had found.
Mateo waited for his mother to ask how much money was missing, but she did not.
She asked who had thrown away his tray.
When the principal answered, Mateo’s mother closed her eyes for one second.
Then she asked whether her son had eaten anything.
Nobody in the room spoke.
Mr. Bell stood immediately.
The cafeteria line was closed, but the kitchen staff still had soup, bread, fruit, and milk. Mateo’s mother went with him. She returned carrying a tray herself.
Mateo stared at it.
