“Steven, please.”
The third. Rosie sitting alone at a lunch table while three girls behind her covered their mouths and laughed.
My knees nearly gave out.
But something stopped my next breath. The girls in the photo. Their faces weren’t blurred. They weren’t hidden. They were sharp and clear, and easy to name.
Madison. Brooke. Caitlin.
“We told you to stop. We asked you nicely.”
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I lifted my eyes to the crowd. Madison stood near the punch table, her smile slowly dissolving. Brooke had taken a step backward, like she could disappear into the wall.
Steven’s voice came calm and steady over the room.
“I want everyone to look. Really look. Not at Rosie. At the people behind her.”
A murmur rippled through the gym.
“For two years,” he continued, “I watched this. My friends watched it. We told you to stop. We asked you nicely. We asked you not nicely. And you laughed harder.”
