The story, as the monsignor tells it, is that Jacob was in the hall with Mike between classes when a handful of freshmen starting picking on him. “Because he had a friend sleep over,” the priest said. Avery can’t believe the kids would tease him about that fear of the dark thing. The monsignor’s frank stare suggests he doesn’t believe it, either. “You know what they say about boys like that, don’t you, Avery?”
Avery’s hands tremble. He keeps them folded tightly in his lap. He wants to leave here and rush to the chapel. He’s so sure Jacob is there, waiting to be found. By him. “Yes, sir,” he says. He hopes his voice is steadier than his hands.
“Sometimes kids misinterpret things,” the monsignor continues. He’s watching Avery carefully, gauging his reactions. Avery hopes his face is as str
