At reception, a woman smiled.
“I’m looking for Cecilia.”
“Oh, she’s here for her assessment. Are you her mother? Mr. Morgan said you might visit eventually.”
She looked focused, confident, and impressively at ease.
Eventually.
She directed me toward the viewing area. Through the window, I saw Cecilia practicing while a coach made notes.
She looked focused, confident, and impressively at ease. Whatever Dawson had concealed, the coaching itself seemed to matter to her. That made the deception harder to untangle.
Dawson stood beside a man in a navy blazer, smiling proudly.
The man introduced himself as Martin, the academy director, and took us into a conference room.
“Dawson.”
His smile vanished. “Karla? What are you doing here?”
“Finding out where our daughter has been.”
The man introduced himself as Martin, the academy director, and took us into a conference room.
“She’s completed five trial sessions,” Martin explained. “Today’s sixth and final assessment will help us decide whether to invite her to apply for our residential program.”
