But the small victory gave Malik a boost of confidence that lasted throughout the day. As the final bell rang, Ms. Anderson called him back as the other students filed out. Malik, she said, her voice honey sweet but her eyes cold.
I understand you’re going through a phase where you feel the need to embellish the truth, many children do. But continuing to insist on these Pentagon stories is becoming disruptive, Ami. Not making anything up, Malik said firmly.
Ms. Anderson leaned forward, her smile never reaching her eyes. If your father really works at the Pentagon, why not bring him in to prove it? Parents’ Day is next week, that would settle everything, wouldn’t it? The challenge in her voice was unmistakable. She was certain he would back down, admit to lying, or make excuses why his father couldn’t attend.
Instead, Malik met her gaze steadily. Fine, he will. For a split second, uncertainty flickered across Ms. Anderson’s face, but she quickly masked it with a patronizing smile.
Wonderful, I look forward to meeting him. That evening, Malik approached his father with nervous determination. Jonathan was at the kitchen table, laptop open, frowning at something on the screen.
Dad, Malik began hesitantly. There’s Parents’ Day at school next week. I really need you to come, Jonathan looked up.
His expression distracted. Parents’ Day? You know how difficult it is for me to commit to school events, Malik. I know, but- Malik took a deep breath and explained the situation.
Ms. Anderson’s continued mockery, her, challenge, the way she’d made him a laughingstock among his classmates. As Malik spoke, Jonathan’s expression gradually shifted from distracted to focused, then to something harder to read. By the time Malik finished, his father’s face had settled into a calm determination that Malik recognized from rare occasions, when Jonathan was truly angry but controlling it.
I see, Jonathan said simply. He closed his laptop. What day is this Parents’ Day? Next Friday, Malik said hopefully.
Will you come? Jonathan nodded once, decisively. Yes, I’ll be there. Really? Malik couldn’t hide his surprise.
His father had never agreed so quickly to a school event before. Really? Jonathan confirmed. I think it’s time I met your teacher.
Malik felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Finally, Ms. Anderson would see the truth. Later that night, Jonathan made another of his mysterious phone calls from his study.
This time, Malik was certain he heard his father mention Jefferson Academy and security protocols before the study door closed completely. Outside, the black SUV was back, parked in the same spot as before. But now, instead of feeling frightened by its presence, Malik found it oddly reassuring.
Something was happening. Something his father wasn’t telling him about. But whatever it was, he was beginning to believe it might work in his favor as… He drifted off to sleep.
Malik thought about the look on Ms. Anderson’s face when his father walked into that classroom. For the first time since the humiliating presentation, he found himself looking forward to going to school. The days leading up to Parents’ Day crawled by with agonizing slowness.
In class, Ms. Anderson had been wearing a particularly smug smile whenever she glanced at Malik. Twice she had made offhand comments about tall tales and vivid imaginations while looking directly at him. She thinks your dad isn’t coming.
Ethan whispered during their Thursday math lesson. He’ll be there. Malik replied with more confidence than he felt.
Though his father had promised to attend, Malik knew how unpredictable Jonathan’s schedule could be. Just last month, he had missed Malik’s science fair because of some emergency at work. That evening at dinner, Malik picked at his food nervously.
You’re still coming tomorrow, right? Jonathan looked up from his plate. I said I would be there, didn’t I? Yeah, but sometimes things come up at work. Not tomorrow.
Jonathan said firmly. I’ve already cleared my schedule. Malik nodded, relieved.
Ms. Anderson doesn’t believe you work at the Pentagon. She thinks I made it all up. Something flashed in Jonathan’s eyes, a hardness Malik rarely saw at home.
Does she now? She’s been making fun of me for it, Malik continued. In front of everyone, Jonathan set down his fork with deliberate calm. Tell me more about Ms. Anderson, Malik described his teacher, her favoritism toward the wealthy students, her subtle put-downs, the way she seemed to enjoy humiliating him.
Jonathan listened without interruption, his expression growing more thoughtful with each detail. When Malik finished, he simply said, I see. Later that night, Malik noticed his father in his home office, the door partially open.
Jonathan was on his laptop, but instead of financial spreadsheets or news sites, Malik glimpsed what looked like personnel files on the screen. He caught a brief look at Ms. Anderson’s photograph before Jonathan noticed him and closed the laptop. Shouldn’t you be in bed? His father asked not unkindly.
Just getting some water, Malik replied, wondering what his father had been looking at and why. The next morning, Malik woke to find his father already dressed. Not in his usual work attire, but in a crisply pressed dark suit with a blue tie.
That seemed more formal than his everyday clothes. On the kitchen counter lay a leather portfolio and an ID badge Malik had never seen before. Is that your Pentagon ID? Malik asked, reaching for it.
Jonathan gently moved it out of reach. Yes, and it stays with me. Malik noticed his father checking his watch repeatedly during breakfast, as if coordinating the timing of their departure with precision.
When they finally got into the car, Jonathan’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, then made a brief call. We’re leaving now.
ETA 20 minutes. They rode in silence for several blocks before Malik gathered the courage to ask. Dad, are you okay? You seem different today.
Jonathan’s expression softened. I’m fine, Malik. Just focused.
Are you mad about Ms. Anderson? Not mad, Jonathan replied after a moment’s consideration. But I don’t appreciate anyone calling my son a liar. As they approached Jefferson Academy, Malik noticed something unusual.
Three black SUVs, identical to the one he’d seen outside their house, were parked across the street from the school. Men in dark suits stood beside them wearing sunglasses despite the cloudy morning. Dad, who are those men? Jonathan glanced at them briefly.
Colleagues. Why are they here? Support, Jonathan said simply, pulling into the school’s visitor parking lot. As they walked toward the entrance, Malik felt a strange mixture of anxiety and anticipation.
Part of him couldn’t wait to see Ms. Anderson’s face when his father walked in. Another part worried that somehow, something would go wrong. Don’t worry, Jonathan said as if reading his thoughts.
Everything will be fine. Inside, the school hallways were bustling with parents and students. Parents’ Day at Jefferson Academy was always a major event, with many families using it as an opportunity to network and forge connections.
Malik spotted Tyler’s father in an expensive Italian suit, already deep in conversation with the father of another student. They checked in at the front desk, where the secretary did a double take, when she saw Jonathan’s ID badge. Mr. Carter, she said, her professional smile faltering slightly.
We weren’t expecting. I mean, it’s lovely to have you join us today. Thank you, Jonathan replied politely.
Could you direct us to Ms. Anderson’s classroom? Of course. Room 112, just down that hallway on the right. As they walked, Malik noticed other parents and staff giving them curious glances.
Jonathan’s badge prominently displayed on his suit jacket seemed to be attracting attention. Why is everyone staring? Malik whispered. People are curious about things they don’t see every day, Jonathan answered.
They reached room 112, where a small crowd of parents and students had already gathered. Ms. Anderson stood at the front, perfectly poised in a cream-colored blouse and navy skirt, greeting each family with practice charm. When she spotted Malik, a satisfied smirk crossed her face, clearly assuming he had come alone.
Then her eyes shifted to Jonathan, took in his immaculate suit, his commanding presence, and finally settled on the Pentagon badge displayed on his lapel. The smirk vanished, replaced by an expression of disbelief. Ms. Anderson, Malik said, unable to keep a note of triumph from his voice.