"Here are my clues. It starts with P. It has faces. It was on the floor. The police taked some," I tell to my class. "Andrew." I point to him to guess. "Is it GI Joes?" Andrew says.

"Nope," I say. "That doesn't start with letter P." I point again. "Maddie." "Polly Pocket?" Maddie says. "No!" We all laugh at that, but that does start with P--twice. The class is stumped. "Ethan, show us what's in your bag," they all say.

I pull them out of my brown paper bag. "Pictures of me and Momma!" Mrs. Perkins says, "Does pictures start with P? Yes. Good one, Ethan! Okay, that's the last show-and-tell for today, so, boys and girls, quietly go to your desks." We go, and that's when I hear Dad in the hallway. My throat bones get tight, and I stare at the door. I grab my scissors and throw them. "Go away!" I throw more things at the door.

"Go! Danger! Danger!" Mrs. Perkins grabs my arm. I yank away and run to the if-bad-guys-come hiding place. I smash into a kid's desk by accident, and all the stuff inside it falls onto the floor. Like a turtle, I hide under Mrs. Perkins's desk and put my hands over my head. My whole self shakes. I think of hide-and-seek cabinet at my home.

Mrs. Perkins takes my hands off of my head. "Ethan, why are you afraid?" "My dad! I heared him in the hallway!" Mrs. Perkins says, "Ethan, there is no danger here at school. Your dad can't come here." The principal comes to get me to the office. I sit on the love seat there, but I don't know why they call it that 'cause you sit there when you are in trouble. I've been in trouble before.

The principal, Mrs. Diaz, says Momma called today to talk to her. "I know what happened last night, Ethan. I want you to know that the police are watching out for you and your momma. You are safe here at school." "I heared him, footsteps like my dad in the hallway. I heared a man voice!" "Ethan, there are men here. You know them: Mr.

Joseph, our custodian, and a teacher, Mr. Lang." "I know Mr. Joseph, but I heared--not him!" "Ethan, does your momma know that you brought the photos to school?" "No, but she let me keep them in my room." "Would you like to look at them together?" She haves my brown paper bag and takes them out. We look at one of me at school, and I point to my dad showing in the glass door. "There he is with his camera, Jace Evans." Mrs.

Diaz puts on her glasses and looks hard at it, so to know what he looks like. She gives them back to me and says, "Stay here." Then Momma comes in.