Ezrah noticed the sirens’ teeth first. They were sharp enough to dig through flesh like Evander’s fingernails did when he didn’t cut them. Don’t tell Mom. He would always say. Don’t tell Dad or I’ll kill you. Evander liked to skin seagulls back by the old blue shed when he found them, but that wasn’t the only thing that happened in that shed.
He liked to take girls there since he was thirteen and older and cooler than the middle school girls of Brightview. He led them to the shed by the hand and pretended to be sweet. He was good pretending to be sweet. So good that that’s what everyone thought he was. Only Ezrah knew that he skinned seagulls back by the old blue shed. Only Ezrah knew about the girls.
“You know you can’t have a playdate tonight, sweetie,” Mom said. “It’s a school night.” Ezrah pouted. “B-but Lucy said there’s be shooting stars on the beach but we have to go tonight because they’ll all be gone tomorrow.
…
“Why does Evander get to have so many playdates on school nights and I don’t?!” he whined. Evander’s lips sharpened like a blade and froze – it was less than a second, but that was all Ezrah needed to sense the danger. He broke into indulgent laughter.
“What are you talking about, Ezrah?” But Evander did not laugh that night when he stopped Ezrah from climbing into bed by wrapping his hand around his brother’s wrist. His fingernails were like knives.
“Don’t say anything to Mom and Dad about the shed.”
Ezrah tried to squirm away.
“Did you hear me? Don’t say a word.
Ezrah tried to pull Evander’s hand off. He found his other arm pinned to the bed.
“You say one word and I’ll take you behind the shed and skin you, got it?”
Ezrah closed his eyes.
“You got that? Now promise, promise you won’t say a word.” Ezrah promised.
