We couldn't just hand her the documents. We had to make her believe.
We waited after school, finding Ms. Liza alone in her classroom, grading papers. She looked up, surprised to see me and Leo looking so serious.
"JM? Leo? Is everything alright?"
I took a deep breath. "Ma'am, we found something. For our history project. But it's… it's about your mother."
Her smile faded. I placed the oilcloth bundle on her desk. As she unwrapped it and saw the documents, her face went through a journey: confusion, recognition, dawning horror.
She picked up her mother's real signature, then the clumsy forgery. Her hands began to tremble. "Where did you get this?" she whispered, her voice tight.
This was the moment. I looked at the empty space by the window where Luna stood.
"Luna Reyes showed us," I said, the truth finally spoken aloud to someone who could change everything.
Ms. Liza didn't laugh. She didn't get angry. She just stared at me, then at the documents, then out the window. The pieces were falling into place for her, too—a family story, a local tragedy, and her mother's good name, all connected.
She sank into her chair, her face pale. "Oh, my God," she breathed. "It was all true."