Seven-year-old Isabella Thompson pressed her hands into the cool, moist dirt of her grandfather's garden. She peeled away the surface like an old scab. Beneath, a reddish-brown earthworm squirmed – reaching and contracting, reaching and contracting. She pinched and pulled, straining its segmented body until it slid from its half-burrowed tunnel.Danny Walsh – a dumb, freckled boy at school – had told her to eat worms earlier that day."Nu-huh," she'd replied. "You should 'cause they're slimy like boogers and you eat boogers all the time even though Miss White says not to!"He'd stuck his tongue o