Long live Multi-Culti Night.
As tragic as Nan’s story was, Jen needed to focus on Abe, and whatever he had done, what had he done?
Colin didn’t know, although Jen had not been able to stop asking him. She could feel him getting annoyed at the frequency of her texts. His responses were further apart and increasingly terse. I didn’t see anything. I don’t know. IDK.
Nan probably hadn’t even told Colin anyway because she knew how close he was with the Paganos.
But, no, the Kingdom School was so tiny, Colin had to know if Abe had done something bad enough for Nan to take notice.
Jen felt a flash of anger at Abe. Everything had been going so well, and he’d ruined it. She’d done everything she could think of, and it still wasn’t enough.
Maybe he was beyond help.
Whenever she sat still for a minute, Jen could feel deep in the marrow of her bones one terrifying cell of hatred toward him. Small but powerful, it could probably spread like a cancer.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Annie left the house on graduation day for her early-morning walk in snow boots, down jacket zipped up to her chin.
She was almost at her mailbox when she saw the small blue sedan idled on the side of the road. Annie crossed the street and rapped on the window.
Colin looked up from typing on his phone, smiled, rolled down the window.
“Hi Mrs. Perley.” He shivered. “I’m just on my way to the Paganos’。 Everyone’s so excited for the party, but can you believe this weather? Snow in June?”
Annie glanced back at her house, still and dark. “Laurel mentioned that Abe has some sort of diagnosis.”
“I can’t say anything,” Colin said. He pushed his hair over his ears. “I really can’t.”
“I disagree, Colin.” Annie employed her strictest teacher voice.
Colin looked at her with pleading eyes. He lifted his shirtsleeve to his mouth and started chewing on the cuff.
“You may feel that you have an obligation to the Paganos,” Annie pressed, “but you also have one to Laurel. I’m an educator, Colin. Same as you.”
Colin’s struggle was so transparent that Annie could see the exact moment when decency won. His shoulders sagged and the words tumbled out in a mumble.
“Abe has conduct disorder.”
“What?”
“He’s doing really well, though, so much better than at his last school and he hasn’t hurt anyone. Objects, but not people—”
“He hurt someone?”
“He was friends with this girl Harper, and he stabbed her.”
“He stabbed a child?”
“In art class. She wasn’t seriously hurt.”
“The way Laurel was talking about him last night, it sounded like an abusive relationship.”
“No,” Colin said. “Absolutely not. He’s never hurt Laurel and he never would. I’m there with them all the time.”
“All the time?”
He shifted again. No. Not always.
“But this is unreal. Jen has known this the entire time, and she hired you, presumably to monitor him, and she hasn’t said one word?”
“You’re getting the wrong idea, Mrs. Perley. Abe’s not a bad kid. He’s just a little more sensitive than the rest of us, and has very high standards—”
“I don’t give a crap about his high standards,” Annie said in a spit. “Might he have, for example, gotten mad at Laurel and thrown a rock through our window as punishment? Is that the type of thing someone with conduct disorder might do?”
Colin was silent for a such a long, tortured minute that his slight nod felt redundant.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
“I still can’t believe it. An inch of snow,” Lena said to Rachel. “Should I put you on video, so you can see? I’m in the yard now, and listen to it crunch under my feet.”
“Wow.”
“Thankfully, the party planner insisted on a tent.”
“Smart,” Rachel agreed.
“She’s been worth every penny. Oops, I found more trash.”
Lena bent down toward the glint of silver. Another protein-bar wrapper, the fourth one this month. Someone on Rudy’s staff. Lena suspected the new guy with all the muscles. He went shirtless at every possible opportunity, no matter the weather.
“What do you think would have happened?” Rachel said.
“If we didn’t have the tent?” Lena straightened up. “It probably would have been fine. The roads are clear and the sun will melt everything.”