The cafeteria was nearly empty at five in the evening.

A row of stainless steel counters ran along the back wall under fluorescent lights that buzzed faintly overhead.

Kevin carried a plastic tray to a small square table by the windows overlooking the courtyard.

He set down two plastic-wrapped triangles of white bread and a small carton of milk.

Brooklyn sat on the edge of her plastic chair, her knees barely reaching the bar under the table.

She peeled the plastic off her sandwich, uncovering a flat layer of dry turkey between two thin slices of white bread.