The school had been
closed for the next couple of days.
I had wanted to just hide
away in my bedroom, ignoring the outside world.
Ignoring the letters.
I had to leave the house.
I had things to do.
I had a responsibility to
the school, and to my now traumatized students.
As I pulled my car up the
long drive that led to the staff lot at Wheaton Prep I could feel my stomach
knotting up.
I could still see him,
Sebastian, standing on that stage.
As I pulled to a stop in
my parking spot something pulled my attention back to the present.
Two was stood in front of
the school, looking at the double doors that led to the gym.
One of them was Trisha
King.
The other was a young man
I didn’t recognize.
He looked older, too old
to be a high school student.
They were talking.
Laughing.
The sight of him made me
uneasy.
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