Chapters (51)
- Cover
- Praise for Sara Shepard
- Also by Sara Shepard
- Dedication
- PART ONE
- —
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- PART TWO
- Piper
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Piper
- Eighteen
- Piper
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Piper
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Piper
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Piper
- Thirty-Four
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
Ronnie was walking across the lot from the classroom building, her steps slow, her eyes wide and haunted. She walked up to Lauren and Andrea and blinked at them hard. “I didn’t mean to overhear. You both got notes? Do either of your kids have a backpack shaped like a raccoon?”
Lauren gasped. “My son does. Matthew. Why?”
Ronnie’s eyes were wet now. But they weren’t filled with sadness, more like disbelief and anger. “I think you’re getting another one. And I just saw who put it there.” Her gaze drifted to the office door, still shut tight. “Piper herself.”
Twelve
Ronnie wasn’t sure how she’d gotten out of the classroom building or how long she’d been standing in the parking lot, reeling from the shock of what she’d just seen. Piper in a black jumpsuit that probably cost hundreds of dollars, leaning down and shoving a folded-up piece of paper into a darling backpack shaped like a raccoon. And then walking out of there like she’d done nothing wrong.
Lauren and Andrea were moving closer to Ronnie now, asking her to repeat what she’d just said. Ronnie tried to explain. When she was finished, Andrea was nodding vehemently. “Oh my God. Same here, more or less.”
“Yeah.” Lauren’s face was ashen. “Me too.”
“Mine was in child’s printing. I worried my kid did it, though I didn’t see how that was possible. And just now, I was in the hall,” Ronnie went on, “and there Piper was, putting something in your kid’s backpack. I just wonder if it’s connected.”
Lauren stared angrily at the red door to the classrooms. “What did I do to this woman?”
“Piper?” Andrea was clutching her head like she thought it might pop off. “Jesus. You should have seen the way she was twisting things yesterday morning! Making me think my kid was a bully in training and had repressed anger issues. I nearly called a therapist today!”
“Maybe that’s why she made it look like kid’s writing,” Ronnie said. “So we’d second-guess ourselves. We’d figure it was our kids doing it—and that they’re unhappy, so we’d leave.”
“My note wasn’t in kid’s printing,” Lauren pointed out. “But then again, my kid’s too young to hold a pencil, so . . .”
“But why force us out?” Andrea asked. “Me, I understand. But why you?” She was looking at Ronnie. “What would they have against you? If you don’t want to say, that’s fine, but I just don’t understand what’s at play here.”