Before the wood hit the sound block, the double doors at the back of the courtroom burst open.

A woman in a dark business suit ran in, looking breathless.

She was holding a cell phone in her hand.

“Your Honor,” she called out, ignoring the bailiff who stood up to stop her.

“I need to speak with Ms. Whitaker immediately.”

“It’s about Nolan.”

My heart leaped into my throat.

I stood up, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice cracking.

“What happened to my son?”

The woman looked at me, her eyes wide with panic.

“There’s been an incident at the school,” she said.

Judge Harlan’s gavel hung in the air, suspended by the sudden silence that gripped the room.

The woman at the double doors was panting, her fingers clutching her phone so tightly her knuckles were white.

“State your name and your business in this courtroom immediately,” Judge Harlan said, his voice dropping an octave.

“I am Sarah Vance, the administrative assistant at West Knoxville Elementary,” she said, her voice shaking as she took a step forward.