Henry had always wanted to be an archeologist. The idea of rooting around in the earth, finding some ancient treasure or dinosaur bones had seemed magical. This was the closest he had come to that, and finding these bones had been anything but magical.
“Son, tell me the story one more time. So I understand. You won’t get in trouble.”
Henry didn’t believe the policeman, he was trying to sound kind but his eyes were cold.
“I was walking home from school, tripped over something, I thought it was a branch, but when I turned around I saw…” He gestured to the pile of bones, clearly human, even without the skull.
“And then you ran for help?”
“And then I ran and bumped into you, and you said there’d been an attack.”
“I said there’d be an attack, not that there’d already been one.”
That’s when Henry saw the knife.
The Write Site 