Her voice sounded gentle but serious.
“Via, could you come to school today? I need to talk to you about Noah.”
My stomach dropped instantly.
“Is he okay?”
“He’s fine,” she said. “It’s about his lunch.”
I frowned.
“What about it?”
There was a pause.
“Do you know why Noah keeps bringing home an empty lunchbox every day?”
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“That can’t be right,” I said. “I pack his lunch every morning.”
“I know,” she replied. “That’s exactly why I wanted to speak with you.”
When I arrived at the school, Mariella led me into a small conference room.
She explained that for nearly three weeks Noah had returned from lunch with an empty lunchbox. At first she assumed he was simply eating everything. Then she noticed something odd.
He always declined free cafeteria meals.
He insisted he wasn’t hungry.
And whenever anyone asked questions, he politely changed the subject.
“He’s hiding something,” she said gently. “I just don’t think he’s the one eating that food.”
My mind immediately jumped to the worst possibilities.
