12

Janet, an older Warg woman, spoke next. “Steph, my granddaughter, came home with a bruised cheek the other day. My daughter thought it was just typical pup roughhousing, but Steph told me that a King boy had told her that she was feral.”

I stopped spreading straw to look at the others. “Oh no. Does anyone else have similar stories?”

There was a chorus of agreements and nods. Apparently, these incidents were also happening outside of school while the children were playing. A leaden weight settled on my heart.

“I’m so sorry your children have been dealing with that,” I said. “I’ll see what we can do to make that less likely, but it should start by changing things at home. Make sure you remind your children that it’s important to be kind to everyone and that if they have an issue with another child, they should go to a teacher instead of handling things on their own—”

“Did you say your granddaughter’s name is Steph?” a King woman, Inez, demanded. “She gave my son a black eye!”

Janet glar