Chapter 14 - The Boy Who Disappeared
"Julian Vance," Malik whispered.
The name hung between us like a ghost that had finally found an open door.
"He was Arthur Vance's adopted nephew," I said, remembering the school gossip from 1999.
"People said Arthur took him in out of charity."
"Then Julian vanished right before Thanksgiving."
Malik looked down at his own right hand.
The faint silver scar across his knuckles suddenly seemed to burn again.
"I remember that morning," Malik said, his voice dropping to a gravelly murmur.
"I forgot it for twenty-five years because of the trauma that came right after."
"What happened, Dad?" Noah asked gently.
"I had forgotten my gym sneakers in the lower basement locker room," Malik said.
"I walked past the boiler room access door."
"The padlock was lying broken on the floor."
"I heard arguing."
"I pushed the door open an inch."
"I saw Arthur Vance's older nephew, Marcus Vance."
"He was holding Julian by the collar against the steam pipe."
"Julian was bleeding from his forehead."
Malik’s eyes widened as the long-suppressed memory broke violently through the surface.
"Marcus saw me."
"I panicked and ran up the stairs."
"Ten minutes later, the first bell rang."
"Thirty minutes later, Mrs. Baxter walked into our classroom, pale as chalk."
"She stood over my desk."
"She demanded my notebook."
"When I handed it to her, she threw it across the room and took out that heavy ruler."
I remembered every second of that morning.
I had been sitting two desks away.
I had seen Mrs. Baxter’s hands shaking before she struck.
I thought she was shaking from anger.
Now I knew she was shaking from sickening, paralyzing fear.
"If Arthur Vance ordered that," Noah said, pointing to the yellowed document, "where is Julian?"
"Where did Julian go after that morning?"
"No one ever checked," I answered, a bitter taste rising in my mouth.
"Because everyone was focused on the viral scandal."
"On Mrs. Baxter."
"On Malik's injury."
"On the school board meetings."
"Arthur Vance used my photograph to create a media firestorm."
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"He let Mrs. Baxter take the fall."
"He used our outrage as a smoke screen."
