I pulled my mask on like a helmet. I closed my eyes, savoring it. In here, I was invisible. I could be whomever I wanted. In here, I wasn’t hiding. Pulling out my phone, I texted Kylie Halpern in the front office, cueing her to play the music. Within ten seconds, Sister Machine Gun started beating out of the speakers down the halls and all around, and I slipped my phone in my back pocket, taking a deep breath. Michael stepped forward, looking left, then right. “Now,” he said.
