grain of rice.
It looked like a tiny piece of black glass.
I had no idea what it was.
But I knew one thing.
It did not belong behind my child’s ear.
“Ethan.”
I forced myself to stay calm.
“Who put this here?”
His whole expression changed.
The bright, talkative boy standing in my kitchen disappeared.
“I don’t know.”
“Ethan. Look at me.”
He stared at the floor.
“Who put it there?”
His voice became tiny.
“Maybe the man from school.”
My blood went cold.
“What man?”
He still wouldn’t
