Winter Swan - Chapter 22

Chapter 22: <Chapter 21>

Silje’s family all went to the dining room for dinner. The table was already set extravagantly with salted lamb, oven-baked salmon, and salad. Olga had cooked this special meal her husband who was going through a lot of stress at work.

Even at the table, Olga nervously glanced at Frank. She asked, “Is Director Lindgran still pushing you for the recent circulation problem?”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Let’s just pray.”

The family was devout Lutheran, so they always prayed before their meals.

Silje followed her adoptive family to the church every Sunday, and while she found the services to be boring, she had no choice. In a sense, it was her way of repaying her adoptive parents for providing a home and education for her.

Olga wanted to cheer up her husband, so she brought up a positive subject.

“Frank, apparently Silje has a talent for languages. She got an A in English this semester which means she can probably get into law school. Or she can go to the national university in Oslo and get a degree in the third-world literature in an Asian language or perhaps African. What do you think?”

“Did you really get an A in English, Silje?”

Frank was chewing his salad when he finally showed some interest.

When he looked at her expectantly, Silje answered calmly.

“Yes.”

“Really? That’s good. And how about math?”

Olga looked at Silje desperately, and Silje knew what her adoptive mother wanted. Olga wanted her not to disappoint him. Silje coughed out of habit. She coughed when she felt awkward.

“It’s not bad. I will try harder, dad.”

“Good, as you should.”

Frank nodded solemnly but he couldn’t hide his smile. Feeling better, Frank got Valter to grab him a can of beer. Drinking it happily, Frank smiled at Silje and said to Olga, “I think she should become a university professor.”

When Frank murmured, Olga replied, “The sky is the limit. It will all depend on her.”

While the couple happily dreamt of the future, Silje continued to eat her meal in silence.

After dinner, Frank sat down on the sofa to read the newspaper. The rest of the family also stayed in the living room. Valter ate a piece of cake while Olga started knitting. Silje sat down quietly nearby.

“Silje, how’s school? Are you doing well?” Frank asked suddenly, making her cough again. She knew the questioning was about to begin.

Silje remembered what had happened today at school. Kids throwing things at her… Milk in her hair… And Kail.

If Frank found out that Silje swung a pencil knife at her classmates, he was going to be furious.

Yes. It was better not to tell him anything.

Silje replied calmly as if everything was fine.

“Yes, I like school.”

“Everything is okay, right?” Frank asked again. Silje contemplated for a second on how to answer and when she saw her adoptive mother give her a look, Silje nodded. It was clear that this conversation had to go well.

Silje smiled brightly and replied, “Yes, of course. I love everything at school!”

Frank nodded in satisfaction. He took a big sip of his beer and ate some peanuts before answering.

“Good. Silje, it will be a vacation time soon, so make sure you reach the top of the class.”

“Yes, Dad.”

Frank then turned to Olga and they started to chat quietly.

The room was relaxed and Silje felt both relieved and sad at the same time.

Frank always expected high grades from Silje. He wanted her to be a perfect student and he was always anxious that the neighbors might find out about Silje’s problems at school.

Silje was his flower he planted from a seed. He expected a big return — a perfect flower in the end.

Did she expect too much from her adoptive parents? Silje hoped for unconditional love, but perhaps things like that only existed in movies.

When Silje returned to school the next day, the kids murmured among themselves. It wasn’t different than any other day, but Silje couldn’t help but feel something ominous looming over her.

It was her instinct. Like animals sensing an impending earthquake, Silje learned to read the atmosphere at school. She could sense danger coming for her.

And she was right. As soon as she sat down on her seat, Silje’s homeroom teacher called for her.

“Silje.”

Everyone turned around to stare but Silje looked at her teacher calmly. She knew something was going to happen today, so she didn’t feel surprised or scared. She was ready for it and when her teacher gestured, Silje followed her without resistance.

Her homeroom teacher was Maria, a math teacher in her late twenties. They entered an empty consultation room which was filled with hard tables, uncomfortable chairs, and wooden bookcases.

Maria offered Silje to sit down. As Silje took the chair, she felt its hard coldness and flinched.

A short silence fell and Silje wished it would start soon so that it would end as soon as possible.

Maria looked serious.

“Silje, I need to confirm something with you.”

“Pardon? What is it?”

“The kids told me that you swung a weapon at them inside a classroom yesterday. Is that true?”

“Pardon? That can’t be…”

Silje started to shake her head to deny it, but she suddenly remembered the pencil knife. Looking back at her teacher whose intense expression was on her, Silje answered softly, “Yes, I think I did.”

“That is why I called you in here today. Silje, you can’t carry a weapon inside the school. We can’t ignore this incident. The school officials have decided that you need to be suspended.”

“Suspended?”

They considered the pencil knife to be a weapon?

Silje never imagined that what she did yesterday as self-defense could get her in trouble. She became speechless and Maria looked at her with pity.

Maria obviously knew the fact that Silje was being bullied. Everyone at school knew, but just as the school ignored it, her own teacher did the same.

Maria looked at Silje with sympathy.

“The school has decided to suspend you for two days. So Silje, you can return home today and have two days off. Think about what you have done and take this time to reflect.”

Two days of suspension.

At such shocking and unfair punishment, Silje became pale. The anger she felt toward the situation was hard to control.

Yet, with an unwavering voice, Silje replied coolly, “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Silje?”

Silje took a slow deep breath.