But something stopped my next breath. The girls in the photo.
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Then the screen behind him lit up.
The first photo loaded slowly. Rosie in a bathroom stall, knees pulled to her chest, her face wet and red.
“Stop it,” I whispered. Then louder. “Steven, stop.”
The second photo. Rosie in the cafeteria, her jacket torn at the sleeve, her stuffed bear pressed against her chest like a shield.
“Steven, please.”
The third. Rosie sitting alone at a lunch table while three girls behind her covered their mouths and laughed.
My knees nearly gave out.
But something stopped my next breath. The girls in the photo. Their faces weren’t blurred. They weren’t hidden. They were sharp and clear, and easy to name.
Madison. Brooke. Caitlin.
“We told you to stop. We asked you nicely.”
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I lifted my eyes to the crowd. Madison stood near the punch table, her smile slowly dissolving. Brooke had taken a step backward, like she could disappear into the wall.
