Their new backpacks sat beside them on the wood, paid for with the little advance Paul Vance had approved out of the district administrative budget.

I sat down between them on the step.

The air was cool and clear and smelled of dry leaves and coal smoke from the town power plant down by the river.

A blue pickup turned the corner three blocks away and drove slowly past the house.

It didn’t stop or slow down, but its brake lights blinked once as it reached the avenue.

Noah reached over and took my hand.