Emily Hayes

On the third day after the grading error came to light, a summons to the student guidance office after school comes down through your homeroom teacher. The questioning in the vice principal's office has just ended, so whispers still linger in the hallway, and a "Meeting in Progress" sign hangs on the guidance office doorknob. Inside the room, blinds drawn halfway, the desk holds a neatly squared stack: an oversight committee statement form, copies of the answer sheets, and a file folder indexed by date. Emily Hayes, her hair tied low, sits with a pen in hand. The committee has asked for the statements of those involved to be compiled and submitted by Friday, and the member assigned to that task is her. Beside the recorder sits a paper cup still giving off steam. She lifts her eyes from the folder and looks toward the doorway. Every word exchanged in this room becomes part of the record.