“Whoever left this for me can go to hell!” I scream so loud it burns my throat. I look around some more, wave the baby again over my head. “And when I find out who you are, I will make you sorry. I promise I will.”

Cassie. That’s who I feel like. When she climbed up on top of that stranger’s car all those months ago on my behalf. At the time, I had wanted nothing more than to feel that kind of anger. Had believed it would devour my fear. And I’d been right: I am not scared anymore. But I hadn’t considered the cost. Because when I look out around the room, at all those startled eyes, I don’t feel strong. I feel trapped. Like whoever left the baby wanted exactly this to happen: for me to look like I was finally losing it. Now there is no way that anybody is going to listen to me about anything—Outliers or otherwise.

And so, I turn toward the tall garbage can nearby and crack the baby down into it. So hard that for a second I think I’ve broken the bin. But the top just sails round and round until finally it slows to a stop.

I’m still glaring down at the trash can’s spinning lid when I hear a whimper close to me on the floor. When I look over to the side there’s Teresa, knees clutched to her chest, trembling.

“Are you okay?” I ask, feeling a hot wave of guilt. “Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean—I didn’t see you there.”

But when Teresa looks up, her face is so swollen and red and tear streaked. She looks like she’s been crying for a while, way before me and the baby and the trash can.

“Can you help me get out of here?” she begs.

“Um, I don’t think there’s any way—”

“I mean out of this—back to my room? I don’t want everyone to see me upset like this.”

And the truth is, I don’t want them staring at me anymore either. Slamming that baby into the trash was the end of my rage. But without it, I am no longer invincible. I’m not sure I am all that strong.

“Yeah, okay,” I say. “Let’s go.”

TERESA’S ROOM IS at the end of the hall. With its two windows, it is much brighter than mine. Outside, the sky is a sharp blue, and sun streams through. It’s so cheerful that I might even be able to forget there ever was a doll. That is if my hand weren’t throbbing from where I was gripping it.