Or so they thought, as they tumbled out into the night, whooping with relief. Connor tossed crumbs skyward like confetti. “Victory!” he shouted. The crew echoed him, ignoring how Magnolia’s lamp still glowed in the parlor window. She rocked silently in her chair, needles clicking rhythmically, lips curled in calm amusement.
Morning at school brimmed with swagger. The boys strutted through the halls, nudging each other, recounting dramatized tales of sneaking into her kitchen. Desks rattled under their boots as they laughed. “Best cookies ever,” Trevor bragged, pounding his chest. But midway through algebra, something in his stomach turned uneasy.