I look right at the woman. “I just need to hear Molly’s account of what happened. It’ll take only a minute.”
The parents exchange a glance, and then the mother nods. “Molly, sweetheart, will you tell Isla’s dad what happened?”
“I don’t really know,” Molly sobs. “We went to the bathroom together. I heard Isla leave her stall and start to wash her hands. And then… I heard her scream.”
I wince and close my eyes. I already know where this story is going. History repeating itself. The echo of a pain I’ve felt before, twelve long years ago.
Molly shudders and continues. “I heard a door slam and then… I was scared. So I didn’t come out of my stall for a long time. When I came out, Isla was gone.”
I rise to my feet, fists trembling with pent-up emotion. “Thank you, Molly,” I growl. Then I tur
