“Witch hunt that’s what this is,” Mr. Robert’s said, trying to keep his voice calm. “We’ve already explained Bryce’s bruising.”

Lips trembling, Mrs. Robert’s twisted the hem of hey pencil skirt. Her husband patted her knee. Subtly she moved away to smooth the fabric. Mrs. Robert’s cleared her throat. The teacher still hadn’t made eye contact since the Roberts sat down for the parent teacher conference.

“Ms. Spate, I’m a social worker, a mandatory reporter. I know how this looks but—“ Mrs Roberts started.

“Atypical vitamin K deficiency. We showed the doctor’s note to Principal what’s her face. Paige you remember,” Mr. Roberts said snapping his fingers urgently.

“Zane. Vice Principal Zane,” Mrs. Roberts mumbled.

The teacher continued to take notes. Mr. Roberts pounded her desk. Mid word, Ms. Spate froze and then she capped her fountain pen. She gave the couple a steely stare. They squirmed under the weight of her scrutiny. Mr. Roberts began to speak again.

“Not bruising. Scars, healed with no pain. Did you really think you could hide this? Hide what Bryce is?” Ms. Spate hissed. “A sin eater.”

“Atypical—“

“Shut up Theo. Where’s my baby!” Mrs. Roberts sobbed.

One floor down, Bryce felt a tingle on his chest. Idly rubbing his sternum, the third grader thought of his mom. He thought of that time they made banana pancakes for dinner.

“Mmmm, I’m feeling a bit peckish. Hello Master Roberts. I’m Hector.”

Shy, Bryce looked away at the painting on conference room wall. He was a good boy. He’d never been called into the vice principal meeting room. Bryce knew he shouldn’t be here. Rolling up his sleeves, the strange man sat next to him. Bryce focused on the lights and darks in the painting and wished the guy would go away.

“May I call you Bryce? No. That’s okay. You’re not in trouble. In fact you are very special. I’m just here to answer any questions you have. I’ve been where you are, young man,” Hector said.

Look at me. The words whispered inside Bryce’s head. Slowly the boy turned to the stranger. Hector’s forearms were crisscrossed with scar tissue like his own.

“And I know what you will become,” Hector said.

Hector smiled as a small voice in his head whispered curious and curiouser. Tell me more.