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yappy Pomeranian, Elvis.
    “What’s terrible?” Dana asked.
    Shelby said, “You haven’t heard? The Coopers are dead.”
    “What?” Dana asked, completely shocked.
    “Yeah, awful stuff. Murdered from the sounds of it.”
    “What…how?” Dana said.
    Shelby just shrugged. “No one really knows for sure yet. But there’s rumors circulating.”
    “What rumors?”
    “You’ve been watching the news, right?”
    Dana sniffled, her nose turning rosy in the chilly air. “Kind of.”
    “It’s these gangs—they’ve been wandering around, borough to borough, stealing and murdering…”
    “There aren’t any gangs in East Violet, Shelby.”
    “Let me finish, will ya’?” Shelby said with a sneer. “They’ve been chased all over the city and now they’re coming out our way. It’s part of some initiation. After they murder their victims, they…” Shelby’s voice went low and soft as she fanned her hand beside her mouth, as if to whisper a secret. “They eat their faces.”
    Dana crossed her arms and said, “Where’d you hear this?”
    “Well, ya’ know,” Shelby answered. “It’s just gossip. But, Betty in 313 was over there this morning, before the news crews arrived—says she heard a cop say something about someone eating Geraldine’s face—”
    “That’s twisted, you know?” Dana blurted. Where do you people come up with this garbage? she thought. She stared down the street at the clump of vehicles and flashing lights, her jaw open wide.
    “It’s just what I heard,” Shelby said as she pulled a chiming cell phone from her coat pocket. Elvis tugged at his leash. “I gotta’ run. Call me sometime, we’re overdue for a lunch, okay?” Before Dana could answer, Shelby had already taken off, her tiny Pomeranian leading her down the sidewalk.
    Dana looked down at Elliot, who had finished peeing next to his favorite bush, then looked up one last time at the Cooper’s home.
    “Well. Ready, boy?” Dana asked.
    Elliot blinked twice, and the two headed back for their apartment.
    Dana thought about Mr. and Mrs. Cooper during every step of her climb to the top of her stairs. Mrs. Cooper was a secretary at Henderson. Mr. Cooper had been Dana’s primary physician since she moved to East Violet several years back. The Coopers had a grandchild that went to Henderson High, too. Dana remembered bumping into her once or twice in the hall, her face vaguely familiar from photos Mr. Cooper had shown her. But, Dana taught junior and senior level English classes and the Cooper’s granddaughter was only a freshman.
    What was her name? Dana thought. She felt in her pocket for her keys as her and Elliot reached the landing of the last flight of stairs.
    Elliot bolted into the house as soon as Dana opened the front door, waited patiently beside his dog dish. Dana opened a pantry door and took out a scoop of kibble, dropped it in his dish, and went back to her couch. She flipped through the news channels once more, this time looking for any information on the Coopers.
    Nothing. The top news stories were coming out of the city, where far greater ratings grabs than the death of John and Geraldine Cooper were occurring. A triple homicide in Astoria, a derailed subway car on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, a three alarm fire in Bay Ridge.
    “Christ,” Dana wondered aloud. “What’s going on?”
    The news cut to a helicopter view of a school. Smoke rose from the parking lot.
    “This just in from East Violet—Eyewitness Five has this exclusive video footage from a crash just outside of…”
    Dana knew before the announcer could finish his sentence.
    “…Henderson High school, where a school bus has caught fire….”
    Dana leapt to her feet and then raced to her front door. She grabbed her briefcase, then swung the door open. She turned to her Pug, who was sitting on the couch in confusion, his tail wagging.
    “Be good, Elly,” Dana said with a huff, before slamming the door shut and locking it.
    Skipping