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I’ve driven a school bus for 22 years. You get to know your kids. You get to know their routines, their moods, and most importantly, you get to know when something isn’t right.
Kinsley is a sweet, bright freshman, but like most kids her age, she lives with her nose buried in her smartphone. They don’t understand privacy. To them, the whole world is just an audience waiting to applaud.
Earlier that day, during my lunch break, I’d been scrolling through social media when a public video of Kinsley popped into my feed. She was doing a little dance on her front porch. The caption read in bright pink letters: “Home alone until 8 PM! So bored!”
But that wasn’t the terrifying part.
Right behind her, perfectly in focus in the bright afternoon sun, was her house number painted on the porch pillar. And in the background, over her shoulder, was the recognizable green street sign at the corner of her block.
Without realizing it, that sweet girl had just broadcast an exact map, a specific location, and a lonely schedule to the entire internet. She had announced to anyone watching that she was an unprotected target.
Now, pulling up to her stop at 3:15 PM, my worst fear was parked just up the street.
