Something in his expression had changed.
“What?” I asked.
Marcus shook his head and finished the haircut, but the joking stopped. When Ethan ran outside to look at the candy machine, Marcus brushed the hair from the cape and leaned toward me.
“Check behind his left ear.”
I frowned. “For what?”
Another customer was approaching, and Marcus lowered his voice. “At home. Look carefully.”
That was all he’d say.
Ten minutes later, Ethan was standing in our kitchen while I pushed his freshly cut hair away from his ear. At first I saw only a small flesh-colored patch.
Then I rubbed it gently.
Something hard was underneath.
My stomach tightened.
A tiny black disc, barely larger than a grain of rice, was attached to his skin under the patch.
“Ethan, who put this here?”
His face changed.
“I don’t know.”
“Ethan.”
He looked at the floor. “Maybe the man from school.”
