Chapter 131

Miss Davis taught literature at Westbridge Prep when I was there. Fresh out of uni, looked about twenty. Always wore long white dresses. Thick brown braids. Smelled like toner and rosemary. Carried a canvas tote with busted straps and wrote in red pen, not green like the others. She wasn’t scared of Isobel Brooke. The other teachers acted like they couldn’t see a girl getting shoved into lockers. Miss Davis dragged Isobel into her office every other week and gave her a talking-to. It didn’t stop everything, but it kept Isobel on a shorter leash. When I reported Isobel to the police, the school freaked. Only one teacher backed me up. The rest kept their mouths shut and stuck to the script: ‘Just kids being kids.’ The case was dropped after my parents took the Brookes’ money. Miss Davis left a month later. Rumour said she’d been fired. I never saw her again. After uni, I tried to track her down. But Davis was a common surname, and there were simply too many of them online. Caroline’s voi