Chapter 3 - Undercover
The change in tactics started with a simple realization: I had been too loud. I had been reacting, and they were predicting.
I needed eyes inside. I went to the elementary school Hailey attended, pretending to be a concerned parent volunteering for the after-school program. I needed to speak to Mrs. Gable, the school nurse. Hailey had always liked her.
"She hasn't been herself, Elena," Mrs. Gable whispered when we were finally alone in the infirmary, the smell of antiseptic thick in the air. She looked around nervously before sliding a folder across the desk. "Look at these."
They were copies of incident reports. Over the last two months, Hailey had been coming to school with "accidental" injuries—a bruised wrist, a singed patch of hair, a strange, circular mark on her inner forearm.
"I tried to report the marks to the administration," Mrs. Gable said, her voice shaking. "But Mark Sterling is on the school board. Every time I flagged it, the report vanished. They told me she was a 'clumsy, high-strung child.'"
My blood boiled, but I forced myself to be still. "I need you to keep a log, Mrs. Gable. Every time she comes in, document it. Use your personal phone to take photos. Save them to a cloud drive I’m going to share with you."
"Elena, I could lose my job."
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"If you don't," I leaned in, my gaze locking onto hers, "my daughter might not survive the year. Do you think they’ll stop at her hands?"
She looked at me, then at the photo of my daughter on my phone screen, and finally, she nodded. I had my first bridgehead. But it wasn't enough. I needed to know what happened inside those walls when the lights went out. I needed to get inside.
