It had been days before the body was found. At length, someone complained of an unpleasant stench coming from within the supply closet. It took even longer to piece together the remains. Near as anyone could figure, it must’ve been an animal attack. It had to be. No method to this massacre. Bones bent so out of place that they jutted out in odd angles, the exposed marrow glistening sickly under the room’s fluorescent lights. Teeth marks around most of the wounds. Several chunks of flesh unaccounted for. These weren’t hands so much as talons; they clamped down in an iron grip that could close off throats. Small crimson beads rose from bald patches where clumps of hair had been wrenched clean off. Identifying the corpse was next to impossible, much less a suspect. Somehow, among the sea of shocked faces, hers looked just ever so slightly less surprised. Everyone noticed. No one said anything.

Later that evening, as her mother brushed her hair, she noticed that she was smiling. A sliver of dread crept down her spine.

She couldn’t help herself. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. I figured out a riddle.”

Another day, another girl woke up. All her hair was white. And she had a sneaking suspicion it was going to be a good day.