House of Reckoning by John Saul

here.”
    Kate returned Angie’s smile, then headed back to her car. For a moment she considered dropping by the school to check up on Sarah personally, then changed her mind. Better just to let Angie handle things for now. She could spend some time with Sarah by herself later.
    Whatever fears she’d had about Sarah’s placement well allayed, Kate started her car and headed back to Burlington. Her caseload was overwhelming right now, and each placement seemed harder and more complicated than the last. If Sarah Crane was happy and adjusting well, it was at least one case she didn’t have to worry about.
    At least for now.
    Sarah Crane filled her lunch tray, steeling herself against the words she could already hear being whispered and the mocking eyes that were watching her limp through the cafeteria line. She paid for her macaroni and cheese and a tiny dish of fruit with the three dollar bills Angie had given her that morning, pocketed the change, then took a deep breath and turned around to face the crowded lunchroom.
    Just like yesterday, almost every chair in the room was already taken.But now her backpack was starting to slide off her shoulders, and if she didn’t find a place to put her tray down within the next few seconds, it might slide all the way down her right arm, bang into her bad hip, and throw her off her feet. She turned back toward the cashier, but another student was standing there, paying for his meal.
    Maybe over by the busing station.
    Now there was someone behind her, probably trying to put his own tray away.
    Or getting ready to trip her.
    Sarah stiffened, leaning her good hip against the metal cabinet to steady herself, getting ready for whatever was about to happen. But instead of feeling an “accidental” bump or feeling a foot at her ankle, she heard a soft, uncertain voice.
    “Can I help you?”
    Was it a trick? Was someone just setting her up? But when she turned around to see who it was—sending her backpack sliding down to the crook of her elbow—she saw a face she recognized.
    The boy she’d seen watching her from across the street the day she arrived at the Garveys’ house.
    The boy who sat alone at the back of the cafeteria yesterday.
    The boy who looked down when she looked at him.
    Now, instead of waiting for her to answer his question, he simply took the tray away from her. “You can sit by me if you want,” he said, flushing a deep enough red that Sarah knew he was expecting her to refuse the offer.
    Hoisting her backpack onto her shoulders as soon as her hands were free, she followed the boy through the maze of tables and chairs, ignoring the whispers and snickers—and a single wolf whistle that she would have known wasn’t meant as a compliment even if it hadn’t been followed by a wave of laughter. After what felt like an eternity but couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds, they were at an empty table in the back of the room, and the rest of the kids finally seemed to find something else to talk about.
    Sarah sat down across from the boy and pulled her tray close enough to move the food and utensils off it. “I remember you,” she said. “I saw you on the street the day I moved into the Garveys’.”
    He nodded, blushing again, but not quite as badly as before. “I wasn’t staring,” he said. “I’m Nick Dunnigan.”
    “I’m Sarah Crane.” She tipped her head toward the tray. “Thanks for the help. I was afraid I was going to fall.”
    “Actually, you don’t need to fall for them to make fun of you. All you have to do is—” His words were cut off by a series of loud beeps coming from his shirt pocket. He quickly silenced the cell phone, blushing again.
    “Thanks for reminding us again, Nick,” someone yelled from across the room. “We wouldn’t want to forget you’re a fruitcake, would we?”
    So that was it—at Warwick High, Nick was in the same boat she was.
    “Meds,” Nick muttered, fumbling a pill bottle out of his pocket, shaking two