PART 2: “That paper is none of your business,” said teacher Patricia,….

 

tucked and his face contorted.

“What happened here?”

“We need to transfer her now,” said one of the paramedics. “She has an irregular pulse and there was a delay in her care.”

The word “delay” fell like a stone.

“There was no delay,” defended teacher Patricia. “I know my students. She’s always trying to get attention.”

Valeria opened the sheet of paper. Her hands were trembling.

“This is a warning for her mother,” he said. “It says Marisol reported frequent dizziness, chest pain, and difficulty breathing.”

The director gently snatched it from her and read it. Her expression changed. First surprise. Then anger.

“Teacher Patricia… this date is from two weeks ago.”

The entire room fell silent.

“I was going to send it,” she said.

“Were you going to send it two weeks ago?” the director asked, very slowly.

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The teacher did not answer.

I wanted to cry, but I couldn't even do that. My chest rose and fell with difficulty. I felt the cold mask on my face and the voices growing more and more distant.

One of the paramedics spoke over the radio:

“Minor unconscious, possible cardiac event, unstable blood pressure. I request urgent transfer.”

Cardiac event.

Some of her classmates let out a stifled scream. Valeria covered her mouth.

Teacher Patricia tried to approach me, but the paramedic stopped her.

“We need space.”

“I didn’t know it was serious,” she murmured.

Valeria looked at her with tears in her eyes.

“Yes, I knew something was wrong. She told me so. Many times.”

Another colleague, Diego, raised his voice from the window.

“You said you were fed up with his performances.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yes, he did say it,” replied a girl from the first row. “We all heard him.”

The director took a deep breath, as if he wanted to remain calm in front of everyone, but he couldn't.

“Teacher, please leave the classroom.”

She opened her mouth, indignant.

Next

"Sorry?"

"Get out. Now."

The paramedics lifted me onto the stretcher. As we passed the desk, I saw the sheet of paper in the director's hand. My name written on it looked like proof of something no one wanted to believe.

In the hallway, before the ambulance doors closed, I heard Valeria scream:

"Her mother never received that notice!"

And then I understood that my mom didn't know anything.

She didn't know I had asked for help.

I didn't know the school already had a report.

I didn't know someone had decided to keep it.

But the worst was yet to be discovered…