At his graduation, Baltasar went up to his temple and was waiting for another applause. Before I started, I ordered the bug and gave up numbered copies of every receipt to the regional supervisor I invited from town. The forty and seven thousand pesos had been put out in 6 deliveries, all signed by Baltasar. The last one coincided with the day she paid for his truck’s hook.

Yolanda had been trying to leave but the supervisor had been showing an e-mail where she had told the director what document she would review. Both had prepared an empty envelope and erased an official book sheet to blame me. They didn’t have my notebook or the photographs I had every time I gave up money.

Baltasar said they were temporary loans and promised to give them back. A mother stood up and asked why she had humiliated the teacher in front of the children if she intended to put back the money. He had no answer. My mother put up her camera again, this time to photo the projected receipts after me.

The local police received a formal complaint and the school council suspended Baltasar. Yolanda was separated while investigating other months. The truck was secured and after the process was sold to get back the fund. The graduation was performed two weeks later with all his promise.

I also faced a decision. The town offered me a temporary office as a director, but I agreed with only one parent committee, monthly public accounts and two signatures for each retirement. I didn’t mean to replace a powerful man. I wanted nobody to repeat his method.

Baltasar asked to talk to me before the hearing. He said he helped me while I was young and I was expecting loyalty. I responded that precisely he taught me how to keep papers and respect other people’s money. My loyalty was with the children, not with whom I used his confidence as a hiding place.

At the new ceremony they gave me outstanding recognition. I didn’t talk about revenge. I called his sixth grader and shown them the clear book where his families could check every weight. My mother took the photo she couldn’t have taken that first time. Behind me there was no empty envelope but forty-seven thousand reasons to prove that reputation can be attacked in minutes but a well-documented truth knows exactly how to come back.