"It doesn't have to but…" Grace gave her best puppy dog look.

Carey rearranged her cards, then set them down and reached for the box of cookies. "As long as your homework is done and you continue to act like a young lady and not a hoodlum, I'm sure I can be persuaded from time to time." She took a cookie, then pushed the box across the table to Grace. "One more." She watched her grin and reach in for another cookie. "You know, when you're not giving me death glares and scrapping with Lauren Grenner, you can be a very likable person."

Grace looked down at her cards. "She's the one that starts it."

"And you feel obligated to finish it," Carey said. "You have to learn to walk away, Grace. One of these days you'll come up against someone much worse than Grenner could ever dream of being, and the fight won't be with words but weapons." She snapped her fingers, causing Grace to look up from her cards. "I don't like seeing you hurt, especially when it can be avoided. By the way," Carey smiled and laid down her cards. "Gin."

"Have a seat," Carey said. "Since nothing escapes the eagle eyes of a Sapling Hill girl, I assume you saw the car that arrived today?"

"Yes, ma'am," Grace answered, wondering if it had anything to do with the incident on the day of her SATs.

"That was the district supervisor for the IJCF. He would be my boss's boss." Carey sat in her chair and did not look happy. "Grace, it went up to the attorney general and it's his opinion not to pursue any charges or reprimand against Officer Baker."

"They believed her over me," Grace said angrily. “I didn’t do anything wrong."

"Remember where you are, Waters. You owe me ten.”

"Yes, ma'am."

"And yes, they believe a corrections officer with no history of abusing prisoners over a teenager who threw a chair at a teacher and spit at another corrections officer. There's just not enough overwhelming evidence to make them think differently."

"But I'm not lying," Grace said, leaning forward in her seat. "Ask the man that gave the test. He'll tell you, ma'am."

"He was asked," Carey said. "That only suggests that she was not on the premises the entire time you were there. It doesn't substantiate any charges of abusing a prisoner while in custody."

"So is she even going to get in trouble for that?" Grace asked. "What about being drunk?"

"Since they didn't have her submit to a blood test until the next day, we can't prove she'd been drinking, and in light of her contention that you slipped out with the other students and went out a different door so you didn't see her…"

"No. There was one door and she said she'd be in the hall. I sat on those steps forever before she pulled up. I saw her pulling up. She wasn't there," Grace said, her voice rising. "Ma'am."

"Lower that tone," Carey said. "If you had been an honor student who was picked up and received rough treatment, the powers that be would be all over this. The problem is your record automatically makes your testimony suspect."

"So no matter what happened, I'm the one who gets punished, right, ma'am? I'm the one who gets strip searched and questioned and drug tested and monitored and treated like a criminal." Grace folded her arms across her chest. "It sucks, ma'am."

"It does," Carey said. "But we're not punishing you for anything that happened that day, Grace. You had to be examined because you were left unattended in a public place. What if you had sneaked in drugs? Whose ass do you think would be up on the flagpole?" Grace's scowl faded now that she understood why she had been subjected to a search and drug test. "The pictures were to protect you," Carey continued. "To show you had been injured and that it wasn't just a wild claim by a teenager looking to get out of trouble. Look at me. Grace, I know you understand how bad credit can affect you for years after you get everything straightened out. It works the same way in the correctional system."

"So I'm being punished because of what I did before, ma'am."

Carey shook her head. "It's more like Officer Baker isn't being punished because of what you've done before. She gets a free pass, but she's on notice that another complaint won't be so quickly dismissed."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Grace asked. "Just pretend it never happened, ma'am?"

"Is obsessing over it going to help?" Carey asked. "Let it go, Grace."

"Yeah, let it go," Grace said, her hands squeezing her upper anus and her eyes focused on the egg-shaped paperweight. It was happening again. She told the truth and it made no difference. "Let it go, let them do anything they want. It doesn't matter because no one will believe me. I tell the truth and it's like I don't know what I'm talking about or I'm lying or I'm confused and it didn't happen or he didn't mean anything by it or—"

"Wait a minute," Carey interjected. "He?"

Grace looked up at her. "What, ma'am?"

"You said he didn't mean anything by it," Carey said. "Who is he?"

Stricken by the slip of the tongue, Grace tried to recover. "I...I...I didn't mean he, ma'am," she said, her gaze lowering until she was looking at the paperweight.

Carey steepled her fingers. "Grace, what happened the summer before your junior year?"

Taken aback by the question, Grace looked away, her mind quickly going back to that fateful summer. "Nothing, ma'am."

"You know you just earned twenty," Carey said. "Look at me. Try again."

Grace wiped her palms on her thighs, quickly figuring out what to omit. "I got a new bike for passing tenth grade and I spent most of the summer hanging out with my friends, ma'am."

"You hung out with your friends all day and all night?"

"Not all the time, ma’am."

"And you were living with your mother?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Was anyone else living there with you?" Carey asked, her dark eyes seeming to be able to see into the teen's soul.

Grace hesitated, then bowed her head and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"Look at me," Carey urged, leaning forward in her seat. "Who?"

Grace glanced up quickly, then looked at the egg again. "My mother's boyfriend, ma'am."

"The one that was here?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"What happened?"

Grace looked away, feeling the old pain flaring up inside. Does she know? No, she can't. No one knows. She thinks he just hit me. So why is she asking all these questions? I can't tell her. I can't tell anyone. "He had a fight with my mother and she threw him out, ma'am."

"When did she throw him out? At the beginning or end of the summer?"

"End, ma'am."

Carey rubbed the bridge of her nose, then slowly blew out a breath.

"Grace, nothing you say here will be repeated to anyone. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"He can't hurt you anymore," Carey said, her voice gentle. "Tell me what he did."

"He hit me, ma'am," she said, falling back on her previous answer.

"He did more than that, didn't he?" Carey asked softly.

"Gave me pot, ma'am."

"I'm not talking about that and you know it, Grace. What else did he do to you?"

"He...he..." Grace felt the tightening in her throat and the sting in her eyes. "He was an asshole, ma'am." She saw a small smile on the instructor's face.

"I don't doubt that a bit," Carey said, her smile was quickly replaced by a more serious look. "Tell me," she urged.

Grace put her elbows on her knees and buried her face in her hands. "Please, ma'am." She heard the creak of the chair, then felt the older woman kneeling next to her.

"I know it's scary," Carey said softly.

Grace sniffed. "Yes, ma'am."

A gentle arm reached around Grace's shoulders. "You can do it. You're a very strong young woman. I know you can."

The tears refused to stop streaming from her eyes. "I can't, I just can't, ma'am. Please don't make me." It was getting too hard. The feelings were too close to the surface. Her emotions were slipping out of her control.

"Tell me."

"No!" Grace jumped from her seat and bolted to the door only to be stopped by an even faster Instructor Carey.

"Sit back down."

"Stop asking me about it." Grace said, angrily wiping at her eyes.

"Grace--"

"No! Leave me alone." Grace grabbed at the door handle but was no match for the older woman's strength. The door refused to budge. "I'm not talking to you anymore," she said. "Let me go."

"You sit back down in that chair right now."

It would have been the right thing to do, but Grace was too upset and too far away from being in control to think clearly. She shoved the chair, knocking it over. "You can't make me!"

"You drop right this instant! Now!" Grace dropped, her palms flat on the short emerald green carpet. "That behavior is completely unacceptable. Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes, ma'am," Grace said as she started her pushups, the tears trickling down her cheeks.

"I don't care how upset you are. You do not walk out on a mentoring session, and you do not throw things!"

"Yes, ma' am."

"Now apologize."

"I'm...sorry, ma'am."

"Stand up." Grace looked straight ahead as the instructor stood at her right side. "Now you pick up that chair and you sit down and don't ever try a stunt like that again."

"Yes, ma'am." Grace righted the chair and wiped her face against her shirt as Instructor Carey returned to her own seat.

"And you wonder why I've put you in an anger management class?" Carey asked rhetorically. "You can't resort to violence to avoid dealing with your problems."