Room 314 and the Graduation Tickets for Hannah Morgan
Allison stopped tapping her phone.
She looked at me, her mouth slightly open, but she had nothing to say.
Her degree meant nothing on this campus.
“We’re your blood,” Richard said.
“Nothing changes that.”
“Paperwork changes that,” I said.
“You taught me that in the social work office.”
Richard reached into his jacket pocket and took out a slim digital camera.