Teach it calmly. You are not being foolish. You are leaving a door open for yourself.”
Outside, evening light warmed the windows. Inside, Alma watched from the back of the room, her eyes shining but steady.
When the meeting ended, Nia ran in from the hallway wearing a new paper crown, this one covered in crooked stars. She climbed into Marisol’s lap as if there were no broken pieces left between them, only the ordinary weight of a child who trusted she could rest.
Marisol held her close with both arms.
Her hand still hurt.
But it was open.
