Lacey watched one lucky mother find her daughter, and she scanned the crowd widely, looking for Peter, aware that she didn't even know what he was wearing today.
Snippets of sound toward her:
…didn’t see him…
…Mr. McCabe got shot…
…haven’t found her yet…
…I thought I’d never…
…lost my cell phone when…
…Peter Houghton was…
Lacey spun around, her eyes her eyes focusing on the girl who was speaking -the one who’s been reunited with her mother. “Excuse me,” Lacy said. “My son . . . I’m trying to find him. I heard you mention his name -Peter Houghton?”
The girl’s eyes rounded, and she slid closer to her mother. “He’s the one who’s shooting.”
Everything around Lacy slowed -the pulse of the ambulances, the pace of the running students, the round sounds that fell from the lips of this girl. Maybe she has misheard.
She glanced up at the girl again, and immediately wished sh hadn’t. The girl was sobbing. Over her shoulder her mother stared at Lacy with Horror, and then carefully pivoted to shield her daughter from view, as if Lacy were a basilisk -as if her very stare could turn into stone.
There must be some mistake, please let there be a mistake, she thought even as she looked around the carnage and felt Peter’s name swell like a sob in her throat.
Snippets of sound toward her:
…didn’t see him…
…Mr. McCabe got shot…
…haven’t found her yet…
…I thought I’d never…
…lost my cell phone when…
…Peter Houghton was…
Lacey spun around, her eyes her eyes focusing on the girl who was speaking -the one who’s been reunited with her mother. “Excuse me,” Lacy said. “My son . . . I’m trying to find him. I heard you mention his name -Peter Houghton?”
The girl’s eyes rounded, and she slid closer to her mother. “He’s the one who’s shooting.”
Everything around Lacy slowed -the pulse of the ambulances, the pace of the running students, the round sounds that fell from the lips of this girl. Maybe she has misheard.
She glanced up at the girl again, and immediately wished sh hadn’t. The girl was sobbing. Over her shoulder her mother stared at Lacy with Horror, and then carefully pivoted to shield her daughter from view, as if Lacy were a basilisk -as if her very stare could turn into stone.
There must be some mistake, please let there be a mistake, she thought even as she looked around the carnage and felt Peter’s name swell like a sob in her throat.