When the girl announced her purse — money and all — missing, the whole class erupted. Voices rose, fingers pointed, and everyone suddenly remembered nothing. My friends joined the chorus of shock and denial. I stayed silent, drenched in sweat even though the classroom felt cool.
The teacher stood at the front and studied our faces like he was trying to read a map. Finally, he spoke. “If anyone took the purse, or saw someone take it, speak now. Confess and you’ll face no punishment. If I find out later you lied, the punishment will be severe.”
His words sent ice down my spine. I was trembling. Frank noticed me and tried to calm me with a look. He had no idea. If he’d stood in my shoes for even three seconds, he’d have crumpled. The purse lay hidden under my desk; my hand would not go near it. I’d never felt so trapped.
The search began. Pockets, bags, shoes—everywhere. My mind raced through desperate, stupid plans: slip the purse into my pocket, beg to be excused, drop it outside. No teacher would grant that. Throw it to another desk? I wasn’t Superman. The teacher was getting closer.
My legs felt unmanned. I almost wet myself. The teacher searched Frank thoroughly—nothing. Then he pointed at me. “Stand up.”
I rose, hands up like a criminal. He searched me, then my bag. Nothing. I breathed—briefly. “Not so fast,” he said. “Under your desk, too.”
My heart lurched. This was it. The trap was closing. I had built the trap; now I was about to be eaten by it. I decided to do the only brave thing left: confess.
“Erm, please sir—” I started.
“Stop wasting my time!” he barked.
He checked under my desk. Nothing. I stared at the empty floor, numb. The teacher told me to sit. JK would be the last to be searched.
He took JK’s bag, rifled through it—and then froze. He held up the purse. The class went silent as if someone had pressed pause on the world. How did the purse end up in JK’s bag?
I felt the air leave my lungs.
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