SOPHIE
Sunday afternoon is quiet in a way that feels almost unnatural.
My mother is working a double shift at the assisted-living clinic, and Chloe left two hours ago to study at the library with girls whose names I barely know. The house has settled into that hollow stillness where the refrigerator hums too loudly and every floorboard creaks under your socks.
In the center of the kitchen table, sitting next to a half-empty mug of peppermint tea, is a thick black three-ring binder.
*Oakford High School District: Policy 5145.7 – Bullying, Harassment, and Student Conduct.*
Ms. Albright handed it to me on Friday before seventh period, a yellow sticky note pressed to the vinyl cover: *Look at Sections IV and VII. Tell me where the gaps are.*
I pull my chair in, uncapping a red ballpoint
