Noah zipped up the main pocket and fixed the chest strap until it lay flat across his sweater.

“Is Arthur Vance getting a new backpack, too?” Noah asked.

“Arthur’s uncle got him one yesterday,” I said.

Noah looked down at his shoes and tugged at his white socks.

“He told me today he’s getting hot soup on Monday,” Noah said.

“He gets the same lunch as everybody else,” I said.

I got up and went into the kitchen to start dinner.

The red metal coffee can sat on the counter next to the sink, washed clean of grease and oil.