They shouted “hey” from across the room and then ran off to play tag where he couldn’t follow.
The staff talked about him right in front of him, like, “make sure you help Noah,” as if he was a chore chart and not a person.
One afternoon during “free time,” I dropped onto the floor near his chair with my
book
and said, “If you’re going to guard the window, you have to share the view.”
We were in each other’s lives from that moment on.
He looked over, raised an eyebrow, and said, “You’re new.”
“More like returned,” I said. “Claire.”
He nodded once. “Noah.”
That was it. We were in each other’s lives from that moment on.
Growing up there together meant we saw every version of each other.
“I get your hoodie.”
