ALEXANDER’S POVIt’s quiet again.Not the kind of quiet that makes you scared because you think something bad is going to happen. This silence is softer, easier. It fills the cabin and it makes me breathe better.It’s been a month since the Camille incident. One month.It feels longer.Sometimes, I forget how much blood it took to get here.Other times, I remember too well.Wendy’s sitting at the table, feet swinging just above the floor. She has on her school uniform that is way bigger than her. I never fail to tease her about it. Her backpack’s nearly as big as she is. She’s quiet, nervously poking her spoon into her oatmeal.I watch her from the doorway, leaning against the frame. My coffee is in my hand and my heart is full in a way I never thought possible.“Cereal’s for amateurs,” I say, stepping inside. “Only the bravest eat oatmeal on the first day of school.”Wendy cracks a smile. “It’s gross,” she whispers.“Well, it builds character,” I say, walking over. “Or so your mom te
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