Smallara

Mrs. Darquartz adjusted the cuff of her cardigan as she drifted between rows, the knit catching lightly against her wrist. The room was in its familiar rhythm: laptop fans whispering, keys tapping…

Ezra stayed still and quiet as Dayton worked, because being noticed in this room had become a kind of danger.  Not the dramatic kind. Not the kind that came with…

Dayton walked into the Computer Arts room with Ezra in her hand like it was the most normal thing in the world.  Not hidden. Not paraded. Just… held. Her palm cupped, thumb…

Dayton pressed her hand flat to the cafeteria table, fingers splayed in quiet expectation, like she was setting down a rule instead of a palm.  Her gaze dropped to the tiny figure pacing the…

Ezra J. Harris wanted to scream.  He wanted to yell so hard it punched through the polished cafeteria windows, splintered glass across the courtyard, and ricocheted down the halls of Roosevelt Middle…