By afternoon, Lydia’s seat was no longer empty.

Her face was pale.

Several classmates were gathered around her desk, showing a mix of concern and curiosity.

“Lydia Xavier, who’s been messing with you?”

Lydia pressed her lips tightly together.

She glanced at me briefly, then quickly lowered her head.

Always this way—mysterious, evasive.

If she’s not bothered by it, I certainly am.

I gave her a half-smile ...