He stopped two feet from the wire when he spotted me standing by the post.

I pushed my hand through the gap, and his small fingers closed around my palm.

Jeremy leaned his forehead on the cold metal mesh.

“Check the blue box,” Jeremy whispered in my ear through the school’s chain-link fence.

At ten the next morning my mother put two blue teacups on the side table.

Before she could pour the hot water, a gray sedan turned into the gravel driveway and stopped six inches from the porch steps.

Zane got out holding a white bakery box tied with red string and a long bunch of white lilies wrapped in damp brown paper.