Chapter 2 - The Wellness Room
By eleven thirty that morning, Emma had refused breakfast, snack time, and lunch.
Her teacher, Melissa Crane, found her sitting alone at the edge of the cafeteria, staring at an unopened carton of milk.
“Emma, you have to eat something.”
Emma shook her head.
“You didn’t eat yesterday either.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Melissa sat beside her.
The cafeteria buzzed with children trading cookies and laughing over spilled juice. At the opposite end of the room, a lunch supervisor blew a whistle.
Melissa lowered her voice.
“Your mother packed your favorite sandwich.”
Emma looked at the lunchbox.
A small handwritten note was taped inside the lid.
Have a brave day. Love you always.
Emma closed the lid immediately.
Melissa had taught second grade for twelve years. She knew the difference between stubbornness and fear.
“What happens when you swallow?”
Emma covered her neck.
“Nothing.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“Are you worried you’ll choke?”
Emma’s fingers pressed harder against her throat.
Melissa noticed faint bruising beneath the child’s jaw.
The marks were small and evenly spaced, almost like fingertips.
“Did someone grab you?”
Emma stood so suddenly that her milk carton fell over.
“No.”
Several children turned to look.
Emma’s face flushed.
Melissa reached toward her shoulder.
Emma recoiled.
“Don’t touch me.”
The cafeteria fell quieter.
Emma looked around, realizing everyone was watching.
Her lower lip trembled.
“I want the wellness room.”
Melissa escorted her to the nurse.
Patricia Lane had worked at Westridge Elementary for nine years. She was practical, impatient with exaggeration, and accustomed to children appearing in her office five minutes before mathematics tests.
Emma had visited twice that week.
Each time she had complained of throat pain.
Each time Patricia had examined her and found nothing.
“No fever,” Patricia said after checking the thermometer. “No swelling. No rash.”
Emma sat on the examination table with her hands folded between her knees.
“It still hurts.”
“Did you eat lunch?”
Emma shook her head.
Patricia glanced at Melissa.
“She did this yesterday.”
“I know.”
Patricia opened a cabinet and removed a tongue depressor.
“Let’s look again.”
Emma opened her mouth.
Patricia used a flashlight.
The throat appeared normal.
“No redness. Tonsils look fine.”
Emma swallowed and winced.
Patricia sighed.
“Emma, sometimes our bodies feel uncomfortable when we’re worried. Is there a test today?”
“No.”
“Did you have an argument with a friend?”
“No.”
“Do you want to go home?”
Emma said nothing.
Patricia set down the flashlight.
“I can’t send you home every time you skip lunch.”
Melissa frowned.
“She isn’t asking to go home.”
Patricia looked at Emma.
“Then what do you want me to do?”
Emma whispered so softly that both adults leaned closer.
“Make her stop.”
Melissa felt a chill.
“Make who stop?”
Emma stared toward the supply closet.
Patricia followed her gaze.
The door was closed.
“Is someone bothering you?”
Emma nodded once.
“Who?”
Before she could answer, the telephone rang.
Patricia picked it up.
“Wellness room.”
A woman’s voice spoke on the other end.
Patricia’s expression changed.
“Yes, she’s here.”
Emma immediately became tense.
Patricia listened for several seconds.
“All right. I understand.”
She hung up.
“Who was it?” Melissa asked.
“Student services.”
“What did they want?”
Patricia avoided her eyes.
“They said Emma has been evaluated for anxiety and that we should avoid reinforcing attention-seeking behavior.”
Melissa stared at her.
“Evaluated by whom?”
Patricia opened a drawer.
“The district wellness consultant.”
Emma slid off the table.
“I have to go.”
Melissa blocked her gently.
“No, sweetheart. Who is the consultant?”
Emma began breathing faster.
Patricia checked the hallway.
Then she closed the office door.
“Her name is Dr. Vera Holt.”
Emma whimpered.
Melissa recognized the name.
Vera Holt had arrived at Westridge six weeks earlier as part of a new privately funded student health program. She conducted nutrition assessments, stress screenings, and small wellness groups.
Parents had praised her.
The principal had called her a gift to the district.
Melissa knelt in front of Emma.
“Did Dr. Holt do something to your neck?”
Emma’s face crumpled.
“She said it was medicine.”
Patricia’s skepticism vanished.
“What medicine?”
“I don’t know.”
“How did she give it to you?”
Emma slowly raised one hand.
She pointed beneath her chin.
Then someone knocked three times on the office door.
A calm female voice came from the hallway.
May you like
“Patricia? I heard Emma is having another episode.”
Emma screamed.
