He sat beside me.
"Did she say anything about the school again?"
I nodded.
"She says I'm going."
His face changed.
"When?"
I swallowed.
"I don't know."
He looked toward the hallway.
Then he whispered, "I think she's planning something."
I began crying.
He hugged me.
"It's okay. I'm going to tell Dad."
But the next morning, when he tried, our stepmother interrupted.
She walked into the kitchen while my brother was explaining that he'd heard something concerning the residential program.
She smiled.
"Oh, we're discussing that again?"
Dad looked toward her.
My brother frowned.
"I heard you talking about sending her away."
She sighed.
"He's misunderstood a conversation about educational options."
My father looked concerned.
"Are you considering some kind of boarding school?"
She laughed softly.
"Of course not. I was researching programs for a friend's child."
My brother stared.
"That's not what you said."
She turned toward him.
"Please don't accuse me of lying."
Dad raised one hand.
"Let's all calm down."
I remember the room becoming silent.
My brother looked toward our father.
He seemed disappointed.
Then he lowered his eyes.
"Fine."
My stepmother smiled.
But later that morning, she took away his phone for what she called disrespectful behavior.
That decision nearly ended our chance to stop her.
My brother got the phone back the following evening.
Our father had noticed it missing and asked why his son wasn't answering messages.
Our stepmother explained that she'd restricted phone privileges.
Dad asked whether there had been a serious problem.
She said my brother had been argumentative.
For once, Dad didn't accept that explanation without questions.
He called my brother into the room.
"What happened?"
My brother hesitated.
Then he said, "I think she's trying to send my sister away."
Our stepmother laughed.
"Not this again."
Dad looked toward her.
Then back at my brother.
"What makes you think that?"
My brother told him about the phone call.
He described the words he remembered.
Then he mentioned the papers he'd seen on the study desk.
Our father became serious.
He turned toward his wife.
"Have you submitted any paperwork involving my daughter?"
She shook her head.
"Nothing beyond general inquiries."
Dad studied her.
Then he asked whether he could see the correspondence.
She smiled.
"Of course. I'll gather everything tomorrow."
The matter seemed finished.
But that night, my brother received a message from Dad.
It was short.
If you're worried about something happening to your sister, call me directly. Don't wait.
My brother stared at it for a long time.