Mrs.

Prewett — thirty years at Marbrook, a woman who has seen every shade of trouble a school can hold — was typing hard.

“Mrs.

Prewett, did Birdie’s family call her in sick?” She stopped.

She glanced left, then right, checked that Halcombe’s door was shut, and leaned over the counter, her eyes wide with fear and sorrow.

“Elliot,” she whispered.