Chapter 2

I twist my pen cap in my hands. The end is cutting into my palm the way I’m holding onto it, but I know if I let go, my nails will be dug into my other arm before I realize what I’m doing. In that moment, I understand why some people carry around stress balls. Some detached part of my brain is thinking how much money those companies must be making, what with all the stress in the world.

The Chief, moustache trembling, looks me in the eye and asks if I noticed anything off about the victim prior to the event. He pauses after ‘prior’, like he doesn’t know what word to fill in the blank with. ‘Event’ seems like a formal party, a fundraiser. Something where everyone hates each other behind thinly veiled political courtesy. That same detached part of my brain that was thinking stress ball stocks is now thinking about how this whole big situation really is a sort of ‘event’. Everyone’s blaming everyone else in their head, but only offering condolences out loud. We’re all such liars.

I don’t know, I say. I don’t think I saw anything unusual. What’s unusual is the way The Chief’s moustache bounces when he pronounces the letter ‘p’. He over-articulates it, making little bubbles of saliva stick to the longest hairs. He reminds me of a walrus, blubbery neck and all.

Have I noticed anything peculiar about the other pupils? I’m too busy watching spit stick to his walrus lip to answer properly. Sorry, I settle on, I’m just shocked is all.

According to him, the recent proceedings have pulled the whole population into providing protection for our people’s way of life.

I nod. Precisely, I say.