The hallway was long and lined with student artwork. I looked for Maya’s. She had told me on the phone she was working on a charcoal sketch of a wolf. But I didn’t see it on the wall.

The school was quiet. Too quiet for a Tuesday afternoon.

As I approached Room 302, I heard it.

Laughter.

But it wasn’t the joyous chaos of children. It was sharp, jagged, and cruel. And it was coming from adults.

Chapter 2: The Sound of Breaking

I stopped outside the door. It was cracked open just an inch.

“You really think you belong here, Maya?”