Inside the elementary school, the hallway smelled of damp wool coats, floor wax, and bleach.
Mrs. Dalton was waiting by the main office, her reading glasses swinging gently on their beaded chain against her patterned cardigan. She gave me a sympathetic, heavy-lidded look that made my jaw tighten.
“She’s doing well with her spelling words, Jill,” Mrs. Dalton said, her slow, maternal cadence always making me feel like I was the one who needed a gold star. “But her teacher noticed she’s been sitting on the bench during afternoon recess.”
