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He had to cut a piece off his roll instead of biting into it.

Sadie watched him work at it.

“Try oatmeal tomorrow,” she advised. “It won’t get a swing in.”

Rook laughed first.

Clayton followed.

Even Micah smiled.

I wanted to be angry with them. I was angry with them.

I also wanted to put all five somewhere nobody could touch them.

That impulse was less reasonable than anything I had been criticizing.

I looked across the cafeteria again.

The boy with the dressing at his temple caught my eye.

For a moment, he seemed to expect something from me.

Sympathy. Disapproval of the Bishops. Some acknowledgment that he was hurt too. I really had no clue.

I gave him nothing.

His gaze dropped.

I didn’t know which of them had typed it. Which had supplied the lies. Which had laughed and passed it around.

I knew what they had decided I was worth.

A joke. A body. Something my family had supposedly used and handed along.

Then I looked at Micah’s bandages again.

He was the baby.

I didn’t care how much he hated that.

Chief’s knuckles touched the table beside my wrist “Hazel.”

I turned toward him.

“Look at me,” he said quietly.

“I’m looking.”

His eyes searched mine.

I understood what he was checking for now. The stillness. My attention caught somewhere he couldn’t follow.

“I’m just angry,” I told him.

He held my gaze another moment.

Then he nodded.