48 - Oakley.

I swallow hard, a lump in my throat forming. Eva is right, and yet I do exactly the opposite. No doubt, word about Henley's murder has spread through the school. This is the behavior I facilitate. "I'm sure that's true, but I wouldn't know." I stand and walk toward the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of scotch and pouring another large glass. "Unfortunately, my job is anything but rewarding."

Eva tilts her head, watching me. "I don't know if that's true. You give these people a place to belong and teach them discipline, even if they go out into the world and do bad things. That's not your fault."

"Isn't it?" I ask, my voice harsher than I intended.

Eva doesn't cower, though. Instead, she shakes her head. "No, someone has to teach them. Perhaps the students that pass through here won't be as brutal as the ones who didn't."

I raise a brow. "Have you not heard what happened to Henley Anderson today?"

Her brow furrows, and she shakes her head. "I don't even know who that is."

"This morning,