Twenty-Seven
Still parked near the playground, Katty pounded the steering wheel and pressed her fingers to her eyes. "Oh God. Oh God. Oh God!" Hands clammy, she cringed, gasping. "He knows. Someone knows."
"Mommy?"
"Not now, Bea." She shivered.
"You cold, Mommy?"
"Bea!"
Kick. Kick.
"Bea. Stop kicking the back of my seat!" She whipped around, swinging her hand toward Bea.
Bea's eyes widened. Her sweet demeanor changed into a terrified, vulnerable child. She ducked.
For the first time, Katty saw the change before she hit. She stared at Bea, terrified herself. Horrified of who she had become. Scared of what she might do.
Time slowed. Light specks floated and sparked between Katty and Bea—flowed back and forth. Mesmerizing.
The terror softened on Bea's face.
Bea seemed transfixed t
