A blonde girl in a blue t-shirt and jeans joined the line for Audrey Dillard’s class in front of Bierce Elementary. “Act your age, Moira!” her mother shouted as she climbed back into a battered pickup.

 

Audrey had met the Godwins the day before when Moira registered for school. Audrey sighed. She seemed like an average second grader, but if she was immature compared to the others, being the new kid would add to her problems—and Audrey’s. Sometimes I wish I were allowed to read my students’ minds, at least once, for a heads up about what to expect.

 

The bell rang. I’m overthinking this. After teaching for ten years, I can handle anything.

 

~ * ~

 

The school’s conference room was the color of a manila folder and held little except a table, chairs, and a box of tissues for the parents. Ignoring these furnishings, Ms. Godwin stood with posture a Marine at attention would envy. “The law says you’ve got to give free and appropriate public education to disabled kids—make reasonable, uh…” She pulled a piece of paper from her shirt pocket and unfolded it. “Reasonable accommodations for them. You can’t kick Moira out.”

 

Audrey blinked. “Your daughter isn’t disabled. She’s a prodigy of mind reading.”

 

Catching a stern look from the principal, Dr. Ward, Audrey winced. Wonderful, I’ve made things worse. Does this woman know what a prodigy is? Good thing she can’t read my mind. Audrey could feel this mom’s clammy mental presence huddling outside her own shield, so different from the fidgeting minds children possessed.

 

Ms. Godwin snorted. “Moira developed early. So what?”

 

Dr. Ward leaned forward. “While your daughter doesn’t have a disability—not with telepathy eighteen years before full brain maturity—she has a right to an education. We’ll make sure she gets one.” Ms. Godwin exhaled slightly. “However, her classmates aren’t old enough to shield their minds against her. Our staff blocks out students’ thoughts, but even if Moira can, she’s too young for us to guarantee she will.

 

“Therefore, we’ve decided she’ll learn online.”

 

Ms. Godwin gasped. “She’s too young to leave alone all day. I’ll lose my job!”

 

The principal shrugged. “That’s unfortunate, but you’re not alone. Other students enrolled here have kept this arrangement after the pandemic ended.”

 

“Because they’re getting chemo or something. Moira’s fine.” Ms. Godwin glared at Audrey. “This is your fault for not listening when she told you that Barr brat stole her key ring.”

 

Ms. Dillard blushed. “Children often lose things.”

 

Dr. Ward held up a hand. “She knocked over Philip’s desk. That demonstrates lack of self-control—”

 

“She just dumped out her keys, to prove she was right. Keep him out of the classroom, not Moira.”

 

“You’d expel a third grader?” Audrey’s eyebrows rose.

 

“You’re trying to expel my daughter. Anyway, he stole other things too. Moira said lots of stuff was in there—hats, toys—that belonged to kindergarteners.”

 

“Children make mistakes.” Dr. Ward tapped her foot. “It’s part of growing up. We’re addressing Philip’s issues. Of course I can’t go into any details.

 

“Because of your daughter’s own emotional immaturity, she doesn’t understand how wrong she was to dig into another child’s mind and violate his privacy.”

 

“Privacy?” Moira’s mother threw up her hands. “How about the little kids who are so scared of that bully they didn’t say anything? That’s the trouble with the parents here. They care so much about their kids’ privacy they’d rather let them be victims than check to see if something’s wrong.”

 

Dr. Ward folded her arms. “Ms. Godwin, that’s exactly what I mean. That’s confidential information about other families neither you nor Moira should know. Third graders should take part in show and tell, not show and telepath.”

 

“There’s another problem.” Audrey took a deep breath. She hadn’t wanted to bring this up.

“Moira’s test scores from her former school were average. Now she’s doing as well as the best student in my class. Exactly as well.”

 

Moira’s mother clenched her fists. “Moira doesn’t cheat.”

 

“This discussion is over.” Dr. Ward closed Moira’s folder. “The law requires the least restrictive education that’s appropriate for every child. For the other students’ well being, you must enroll Moira in our remote learning program.”

 

“I’ll sue.”

 

“We’ll win.”

 

~ * ~

 

It didn’t come to that. Elsa Godwin couldn’t afford a lawyer, and no local practice which did pro bono work would take her case. Mental privacy was a hot button issue.

 

~ * ~

​

Three months later, Ms. Godwin called Dr. Ward. “Moira’s pediatrician just put her on a new drug so she can’t read minds. I’m sending her to school tomorrow.”

 

Though it wasn’t that simple, the district psychiatrist examined Moira and confirmed her telepathy was indeed blocked by Antelprosed. “If she remains on the medication, there’s no reason she can’t attend school in-person.”

 

“We must insist it be administered here,” the principal said.

 

“You think I’d lie about giving it to her?” Ms. Godwin wiped away a tear. “Can’t you see she’s on it?” She shot a worried glance over her shoulder. Moira had yawned throughout the exam. Now her sneakers dragged as she followed the adults down the hall.

 

Nevertheless, when Dr. Ward held out her hand, Moira’s mother gave her the bottle.

 

~ * ~

​

Two weeks later, the principal punched the numbers into her phone with a tense finger. “Ms. Godwin, this is Dr. Lorna Ward. Come get your daughter. Now.”

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Dr. Ward winced. “Just come to school and—”

 

“Then she’s not sick or hurt. I can’t go running off now—I’ll lose my job. Your school nurse gives her that pill every day, so Moira didn’t read anyone’s mind. She’s too tired to misbehave. She can stay till I pick her up at three. Goodbye.”

 

With a half-whimpered sigh, the principal hit redial, digging every other nail into her palms, thinking Stop it, stop it, stop it, even though it was useless. Moira had obediently taken the Antelprosed that morning, and couldn’t hear her.

 

Then, with a sob, she handed the phone to Moira, who sat curled up beneath a window. Outside the staff and students of Bierce Elementary were stumbling over the playground, clutching their heads.

​

~ * ~

​

As part of a lesson on healthy eating, Ms. Dillard’s class had sampled different fruits. Moira had no allergies, so there was no reason for her not to taste mango for the first time.

 

Nobody realized how mango would interact with Antelprosed. Certainly the manufacturer hadn’t researched it. Moira’s thoughts now broadcasted ten times the distance a telepathic message normally projected and at twenty times the volume—and couldn’t be blocked, even by adults’ mental shields.

​

~ * ~

​

With this apparently permanent side effect, Moira had to return to online learning. “Why?” her mother asked. “She’s got a disability now.”

 

At least Ms. Godwin no longer worried about her income. Moira received a substantial settlement from the pharmaceutical company, enough to move to a rural area with special arrangements for a high-speed internet connection.

 

This time, Dr. Ward found them a lawyer.

​