Excerpt: RunStarGirl: A Novel of Murder and Whimsy

Bryony Adams was the type of girl who got murdered. This was always so, and it was apparent from the way that men looked at her as she adjusted her knee socks, and the way that women shook their head in pity when she rode by on her bicycle.
“I made you a present, Mrs. Lopez,” she said, dragging her backpack over to the desk. A vivid orange poster hanging on the wall demonstrated how to tie shoes. Bryony was well versed in tieing her shoes, and could even double knot, but that was because she and her father worked very, very hard on it at home. Now she was working on counting to one hundred, and was almost there, although sometimes she got lost while wandering around in the ever elusive eighties.
“Oh, did you? What a sweet girl you are. What did you make?”
Bryony pulled the gift out of the backpack, and set it on the desk. It was a bookmark made out of bright construction paper with cheap sequins glued to it. A cockeyed Mrs. Lopez was painstakingly drawn in crayon, her smile extending beyond the circle of her face. She had a star sitting on one shoulder. Mrs. Lopez’s eyes stung. She clutched the girl to her, and as she felt the thin bones and coltish knees, she thought, Run away, little girl. Run from everything that is going to befall you. Just run, Bryony. Run.
What she said out loud was, “It’s very beautiful, Bryony. I have a special fondness for purple sequins, too.”