IT WAS SO dark in the shed. His underwear was wet, and his skin itched. It smelled awful in here—a little like the mouse that had died under his family’s porch that one time. And he could hear the ocean going whoosh-whoosh-whoosh, but he didn’t know where the sound was coming from. He hadn’t actually seen the ocean since coming here. It wasn’t like he was on a fun vacation.

He moved right and left, bumping into plastic beach buckets, rusty bikes, and a busted pool float. He’d never been allowed to play with any of it. He kept thinking about all the creatures that might be crawling over him. Centipedes. Spiders. Maybe even a mouse. His throat tightened. The smell of that dead mouse had gotten worse and worse every day—first it smelled like puke, then something even more awful. When his dad finally pulled it out with a shovel, there were only bones. He’d screamed, and his dad had run over to him to give him a hug. I know, buddy, he said. It isn’t pretty.

Would he ever see his dad again? Was he going to turn into that mouse?

His heart started to pound. He pressed his face into his knees. In times like this, times when he got really scared, the only thing that helped was to disappear into the Harry Potter books he loved. If he were at Hogwarts instead of trapped here, if he had magical powers like Harry and his friends, he’d strike down the woman who’d done this to him with a magic spell. She’d shrivel up and disappear. And then? Then he’d run. He’d run fast, away.

The door creaked open. He stood up, suddenly not able to breathe. The light made his eyes hurt, and he brought his bound hands to his face.

She stared at him. She wore that big flowered dress, the one that fit her once but didn’t anymore. Her hair was a tangle of orangey-blond around her face. When she was just his teacher, she’d reminded him of the friendly scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz. Now she was more of a Halloween skeleton.

“I—I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I’ll never do it again, I promise.”

She sniffed and gave him an ugly look. Once upon a time, he hadn’t felt stranger danger with her. He’d thought she was a normal, friendly, happy person he knew well, a person who told funny jokes and gave him Junior Mints after a lesson and talked to him about the Harry ­Potter books—she said she loved them, too.

They never talked about Harry Potter books anymore.

“C-can I go back there?” he said, gesturing to the house across the yard. He could see it through the crack in the door. “I’m thirsty.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m thirsty,” she mocked. “Whose fault is that?”

His cheeks burned. How long had he been trapped in here? When she first shut him inside, he’d wanted to scream, but then he worried she’d do something even worse. You better watch it, she was always saying. I could really make t

hings bad. You should be happy about how kind I’m being. She also told him that his parents were glad he was gone, and they weren’t searching to bring him home. No one was. No one
cared.

She shook a finger at him. “You should have thought about what would happen before you did it. But you didn’t, and you broke my heart. All I’ve done for you, and this is what I get. You leave me. You make me look like a fool.”

“I—I said I was sorry.”

He knew he should have never tried to escape…but it had felt so good. Out there on the sidewalk, he’d turned from the helpless victim into a hero in one of his books—into Harry Potter himself. The air had smelled so fresh. The hot summer sun gave him strength. When he’d knocked on that door two houses down, he’d been sure the people staying there would save him.

Now she moved closer, her face almost touching his. Her breath smelled like coffee, just as his mother’s always did when she leaned over his bed to wake him up for school. It made him so homesick to smell it, and yet he always kind of wanted to smell it, too, just so he could remember.

When she reached for him, he flinched. But instead of hitting him, she petted the side of his cheek. “My sweet, sweet boy. I love you. You know that, right?”

“Uh-huh,” he whispered. But he felt icky for saying it.

“Except you’ve been so very bad. And bad boys need to be punished.”

The door crashed shut so hard that the whole crappy plastic shed rattled. “Wait!” He lurched forward, tripping over his tied-up ankles. “Wait, no, please! Let me out! I’ll never do it again! I promise!”

“I’m sorry, honey.” The metal padlock clicked into place. “But this is how it has to be.”