Mother's Day Murder. Leslie Meier
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Sara’s door. When there was no answer, but she heard muffled sobs, Lucy went in. She found Sara facedown on her bed, with her face buried in her pillow. She sat down on the bed and placed her hand on Sara’s back. “Want to tell me about it?”
“No.”
“I think you should. You’ll feel better.”
“I’ll never feel better. I want to die.”
Alarmed, Lucy grabbed her shoulder and rolled her over so she could see her face. “Don’t say things like that.”
“It’s how I feel,” said Sara, tears streaming down her face.
“No boy is worth this. There’ll be another, and another. Believe me.”
“It’s not Chad.”
“Well, what is it then?”
“It’s Heather and Ashley. They took a cell phone picture of me changing into my gym clothes and sent it to the entire football team!”
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