“I knew it was a landslide.” Charlotte sat on her knees, arms folded and head tilted up with pride. “I knew the whole time.”
The museum attendant turned from the diorama to Charlotte, who sat at the front of the crowd of twenty children. She spoke with the balanced tone of a professional. “Yes, but at the time, the villagers didn’t understand what that was. They thought it was their gods coming to punish them.”
“That’s stupid. They’re stupid.”
At the back, I clenched my fists in my pockets as Charlotte’s comment brought a burst of laughter from the other children and the disapproving gaze of the chaperones. Yup—that’s my daughter.
“Uneducated is the word. They had a lot to learn about their homeland.” The attendant segued into her next point with the skill of someone used to these types of interruptions. “It took many years to rebuild.”
Charlotte, however, was not one to let her point go unnoticed. “Why wouldn’t they leave?”
“Charlotte.” My jaw clenched as I hissed.
The attendant brushed a hair from her face and feigned a smile. “Back then, the people of the reserve didn’t have anywhere to—”
“They should have left. I would have left.”
Several of the other children groaned. Miss Preston, Charloett’s third-grade teacher, glared at me, and I felt as if was the one who’d be staying after school. I mouthed, “sorry,” but that only deepened the frowns.
Clasping her hands together the attended began walking toward the exit with the children in tow. “Why don’t we move on to the next exhibit. We have elephants over there.”
Of course, Charlotte took the lead, blonde pig tales bouncing with her prideful steps. “I love elephants.”
I trailed behind with my head low. This was going to be a long field trip.
