It ended.
I stared at the frozen screen.
I knew one of the boys.
Mason Calloway.
Fourteen years old.
He lived two streets away.
I had seen him at school fundraisers.
His mother had once sat beside me during a parent meeting.
My mouth became dry.
“Why didn’t you go to a teacher?”
Ethan’s face folded slightly.
“I did.”
Everyone became quiet.
Officer Mercer looked at him.
“You didn’t tell us that part.”
Ethan looked toward the school in the distance.
“I told somebody.”
“Who?”
He hesitated.
“Mr. Larkin.”
My stomach tightened again.
Mr. Larkin was Willowcrest’s assistant principal.
“What did he say?” I asked.
Ethan’s voice became almost inaudible.
“He said I shouldn’t accuse people of serious things unless I was completely sure.”
Rebecca stared at him.
“You showed him the video?”
Ethan shook his head.
“My phone was in my backpack. He was busy. He told me to get to class.”
