Chapter 20: The Question

The stage lights were so bright that the people at the back tables turned into dark shapes.

My father put his arm around my shoulders and turned me toward the cameras.

"Smile, sweetheart," he said, barely moving his mouth.

"You have until I finish walking to the microphone," I said just as quietly. "Tell them yourself."

His arm tightened.

"Smile, Marisol."

That was his answer.

I stepped out from under his arm and went to the podium.

I held the pen up in my right hand where the cameras could see it.

The room went quiet in rows, from the front to the back.

"My name is Marisol Salcedo," I said. "Most of you have seen me on the news."

Somebody coughed.

Phones came up at every table, as they had on the lawn.

At the back of the room, the red lights on both news cameras came on.

"This is the EpiPen from Parents' Day.

"I walked to my mother's office and got it myself, and my best friend put it in my leg, because no adult would go and get it."

I set it on the podium, and it clicked against the wood.

"My father just told you how he treats every child alike," I said. "I only have one question for him."

"Marisol," my father said, stepping up behind me. "That's enough. You've had a difficult month."

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