Prewett’s terrified eyes over the counter.

I thought of the cafeteria staff, who see kids in the unguarded minutes teachers don’t.

“Maybe,” I said.

For two days I was a ghost, working my phone from my dining room, promising Amanda’s legal protection to anyone who’d listen.

Delia, who runs the cafeteria line, finally called Amanda’s office and went on the record.

Two weeks earlier she had found Birdie crying in the cafeteria restroom, trying to get a stain off her shirt.