27 Laura stared at the words. Many were smudged and hard to read. She wondered if Ryan’s tears had caused the smudging. She imagined him scribbling it all down on paper. How he felt. Was he in shock? Devastated? Or was he white hot with anger? Her own tears fell. Her heart breaking for Ryan. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his father’s fault. She ran her fingers over the bottom of the page where Ryan had dug the pen in as he carved deep patterns of black into the page, small rips and scribbles covered the adjoining one. She closed her eyes as goose bumps pricked at her arms, the chilling reality of Ryan’s pain. Oh, Ryan. Laura wiped her cheeks as her eyes once again scanned the page. She noticed the date this time—the day of the end-of-year exam party. The day before Ryan died. It all beg

