“He was the kid making all sorts of threats on line to teachers,” Weeks explained. “Last night he went after Lainey.”
“Oh, my goodness, that"s right!” She moved to me and put a comforting hand on my back as I leaned an elbow on the counter, hand on my forehead while shaking my head. “You okay, Lainey?”
“Wow.” Was all I could say as I found a nearby chair and sank into it. Who else was going to wind up dead? How many did that make? Four?
“Thanks, Maureen,” Weeks said. “Lainey, you okay?” Maureen had moved for the door, but she paused. They were all looking at me.
“Oh, I"m just peachy.” I rose from the chair. “I"m going to my room for a bit.” After everything that happened today, Sinclair"s suicide—real, I was certain—shouldn"t have bothered me. But it did. As I began up the stairs, the
