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“I study crime,” she said. “To do it or stop it?” Ellie said.
Normally, she could read his expression in a moment. He had a wide face, with a heavy jaw and big brown eyes—the kind of face that could take a blow, rattle a crook, or melt in infectious laughter. Tonight, he was a cypher.
She embraced Locard’s exchange principle: every contact leaves a trace, meaning in this case, backwash.
The detective had arrived at Ellingham Academy.
QUESTION EVERYTHING; STAND BACK, I’M GOING TO TRY SCIENCE!;
Stevie had no fears of the dead. The living, however, sometimes gave her the creeps.
“Anything is better than doing what I’m supposed to be doing.”
Facts!
She heard exercise did that. Was this what they meant? You were so busy being confused and trying to stop your sweaty hands from slipping on a mat that you couldn’t think anymore?
You have to take things as they are, not how you hear they’re supposed to be.”
“I just think you get me,” she said. “I do,” he said, shrugging. “We have a limited emotional vocabulary. We’re indoor kids.”
