Chapter 4

Ryan’s voice was soft.

Almost kind.

That was what made it terrifying.

The police siren cut through the schoolyard.

Parents backed toward the fence.

No one left.

Of course they didn’t.

They wanted to see whether the crying mother from the viral video was really a monster.

Lily clutched my neck.

Her faded pink lunchbox swung from her wrist.

Inside was the sandwich I had made with shaking hands.

The cupcake.

Both halves.

My dinner.

Her lunch.

Our little proof that I had tried.

Ms. Davis looked at me.

Then at the lunchbox.

“Mrs. Miller,” she said carefully, “I need…