Chapter 28
Rachel was halfway through explaining the difference between a metaphor and a simile during the first period when the scream cut through the hallway outside her classroom.
It wasn't the sound of teenage drama or someone joking around with a friend. This was raw and terrified. The kind of sound that made every adult in the area move on instinct.
The students' gazes snapped toward the door. The classroom went silent except for the growing commotion in the hallway. Voices had risen, along with footsteps running, and someone still screaming.
“Stay here,” Rachel said firmly, already moving toward the door. “All of you, stay in your seats.”
She stepped into the hallway and immediately saw the crowd. Students clustered in a tight knot about ten feet from her classroom door, some of them pressing forward to see, others backing away with their hands over their mouths.
Rachel pushed through the crowd, her teacher's voice cutting through the chaos. “Move. Let me through. Move back. Give me space.”
The students parted reluctantly, and Rachel's stomach dropped when she saw what they were all staring at.
Terrance Bogdin lay on the floor, his body convulsing, his eyes rolled back in his head.
He was broad-shouldered and muscular, but right now he looked vulnerable against the scuffed floor.
Foam flecked the corners of his mouth, and his skin had gone a sickly pale color that made Rachel's chest tighten with fear.
She dropped to her knees beside him, her hands automatically reaching to stabilize his head, to keep him from hitting it against the floor as his body jerked and twisted.
Her mind raced through the first-aid training she'd taken years ago.
Seizure. Don't restrain him. Protect his head. Time it. Get help.
“Get the nurse! Someone call a principal!” Rachel shouted, her voice steady even though her hands were shaking. “Now!”
A girl near the back of the crowd fumbled for her phone. Another student ran toward the office. Two other teachers rushed forward, dropping to their knees next to him.
She kept her focus on Terrance. His convulsions were slowing, but his breathing sounded wrong… it was too shallow and fast, like he couldn't get enough air. Another teacher checked his airway while Rachel took off her cardigan and placed it on the floor to cushion his head.
“Terrance,” she said, keeping her voice calm and clear. “You're going to be okay. Help is coming. Just breathe.”
She didn't know if he could hear her or if it mattered, but she kept talking anyway, because it was all she could do.
The crowd of students pressed closer, phones out, some of them filming, others just staring with wide, frightened eyes. Rachel looked up and caught the eye of a junior she recognized from her third-period class.
“Get them back,” Rachel said sharply. “All of you, back up. Give him air. And put those phones away. Now.”
The authority in her voice cut through the shock, and the students began to shuffle backward. A few of them pocketed their phones. Others just stood there, frozen, unable to look away.
Laura raced from the front office with Emma in tow. While Laura worked to keep the kids out of the hall, Emma dropped to her knees next to Rachel, making sure Terrance’s head was protected.
Mr. Haynes rushed forward, talking into the radio held in his hand. “Nine-one-one has been called. Good, good. I’m with the student now. The nurse is coming.”
The school nurse arrived, breathless and carrying her medical bag. She knelt down and immediately started checking Terrance's vitals. “How long has he been like this?” the nurse asked.
“Two, maybe three minutes since the seizure started,” Rachel said. “It's stopped now, but his breathing—”
“I see it.” The nurse's face was grim as she pulled out her stethoscope. “Good work keeping his head stable.”
The deputy serving as the school resource officer hurried forward. She quietly spoke into the attached radio at her shoulder, then moved the onlooking students farther back and told them to return to their classrooms.
David appeared at the edge of the crowd, pushing through with urgency. His face went white when he saw Terrance on the floor, and for a moment, he just stood there, staring.
“What happened?” David demanded, his voice too loud in the suddenly quiet hallway.
“He collapsed,” Rachel said, not looking up from Terrance.
“He needs help—”
“They've called for an ambulance,” she said, cutting in.
“Is he—” David started forward, but Rachel held up a hand.
“Don't move him,” the nurse barked. “Just let him be until the paramedics get here.”
David's jaw clenched, but he stayed back. Rachel could feel his eyes on her, could sense the tension radiating off him, but she kept her focus on Terrance.
She glanced at Emma, still kneeling with Laura having kept the students in their rooms. “What a day for you to need to do an assessment, right?”
Emma nodded, then whispered, “I’m always prepared for the unknown.”
They looked down at Terrance, and Rachel noted the convulsions had stopped now, but Terrance's eyes were still unfocused, and his breathing labored. Rachel kept one hand on his shoulder, grounding him, letting him know someone was there, while Emma still protected his head.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
Rachel swung her head around, ready to yell at the student whose muted cursing was still heard over the noise.
Her gaze landed on Tyler Morrison, another senior wrestler in one of her earlier classes.
She started to tell him to get back to his room when she noted his wide-eyed stare.
He wasn’t just morbidly curious, checking on a friend, or just seeing what the commotion was.
There was stark horror on his face. And she swore she could see guilt wash over his expression.
Her attention returned to Terrance as the ambulance arrived a few minutes later, though it felt like an eternity.
The paramedics moved with practiced efficiency, loading Terrance onto a stretcher, asking rapid-fire questions that the nurse answered while Rachel stepped back to give them room.
She recognized Jose Garcia as one of the paramedics.
She quickly glanced at Emma, knowing they had dated in high school, but Emma kept her gaze on Terrance.
Rachel finally stood and watched as Terrance was wheeled away, his body strapped down, and an oxygen mask over his face. The hallway was clear of students, and she saw Cindy on duty with Laura as one of the staff members making sure students didn’t come down the hall.
Jose looked to the side where Emma stood, and both locked eyes.
Rachel watched as a look of longing crossed Emma’s face, then glanced at Jose and saw the same expression on his face.
Then he returned his attention to Terrance and continued rolling him down the hall with the other EMT.
Emma stood rooted in place, her gaze never leaving Jose’s back until the gurney was rolled around a corner and Jose disappeared.
Emma jerked slightly, her head swinging around, her gaze now landing on Rachel. Emma offered a sad smile and tiny shrug.
Principal Martine appeared at Rachel's elbow. “Ms. Ayers, can you come with me, please?”
“But my class—”
“Ms. Coates? Will you watch Ms. Ayers’s class for a few minutes?”
“Of course,” Cindy said and disappeared into Rachel’s room.
Rachel followed Jacqueline down the hall to the closest department lounge. Her legs were shaky now that the adrenaline was fading. She pressed her hands together to keep them from trembling.
“You did well out there,” Jacqueline said, turning to face her. “Keeping calm, calling for help, managing the crowd. Thank you.”
She nodded, then confessed, “I was scared.”
“I know.” Jacqueline's expression was troubled. “Me too. The paramedics said his vitals were unstable. They're taking him to the hospital now, and we've contacted his parents.”
Rachel nodded, her throat tight. She kept seeing Terrance's face, pale and slack, his body jerking against the floor.
Jacqueline glanced around, then turned her attention back to Rachel. “I need to tell you something. And I'm only telling you because I know you're dating Detective Hudson and you've been working with the sheriff's department on this problem.”
Rachel's pulse kicked up. “What is it?”
“I got a call from Sheriff Hudson,” the principal said quietly. “He informed me that they've identified the illegal substances that were found in the boys’ locker room. Anabolic steroids. He wanted me to be aware in case there were any medical emergencies.”
Rachel felt the blood drain from her face as she let out a long breath.
Jacqueline’s voice was steady, but her eyes were worried. “The sheriff's department is investigating, but they asked us not to say anything yet. They don't want to tip off whoever's doing this before they can make an arrest.”
“Do they know who it is?” Rachel's voice came out smaller than she intended.
“Not yet. But they're actively investigating.”
Rachel nodded, her mind spinning. Terrance Bogdin. A wrestler. Someone who would have access to the same person who'd been distributing pills in the locker room. “I wonder if Terrance was taking them,” Rachel said quietly.
“I’m sure the hospital will test for everything,” Jacqueline cautioned. “But the timing is... concerning.”
Rachel thought about Terrance in her classroom just last week, laughing with his friends, talking about his upcoming match. He'd seemed fine. Happy. Healthy. And now he was in an ambulance, his body shutting down, all because someone had promised him he could be better, stronger, faster.
Rachel felt sick. Turning back to the principal, she asked if she could return to her class.
With Jacqueline’s nod, Rachel left the room, her legs still shaky. She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Jack. The student collapsed outside my classroom. We’ll talk tonight. Rachel closed her eyes and leaned against the wall.
Her phone vibrated with an incoming message from Jack. Rach - be careful!
I will, she replied.
I promise we’ll get them.
Rachel wanted to feel safe and protected and secure in the knowledge that everything was going to be okay.
But standing in that hallway, still smelling the antiseptic from the nurse's bag and hearing the echo of the students' frightened voices, all she could see was Terrance’s body as the EMTs rolled him away.
She stood in the empty hallway for a long moment, gathering her strength. Then she walked back to her classroom, where her students were still sitting in stunned silence, and did what teachers do. She calmed them. She answered their questions. She helped them process what they'd seen.
But underneath the professional calm, Rachel's mind was racing. Because she knew now that someone was hurting kids. And that thought terrified her.