LucienThe bright, eager energy Luke had carried all morning had completely vanished.My little boy sat between us in the middle row, holding his potted seedling flat against his lap like a fragile shield. The bouncing, endless chatter that had filled the cabin on our way to Oakridge Academy was gone, replaced by a heavy, unnatural quiet.Over the next three hours, we toured three more elite institutions across Vegas. Each headmaster paraded us through their school’s prized facilities— from sprawling athletic complexes, to robotics labs, and equestrian centers. But Luke refused to engage. Even as Aurelia tried her best to cheer him up—pointing out colorful murals, asking him soft questions, and trying to draw out his curious smile—he simply pouted, his small shoulders drawn tight, giving polite, one-word answers before lapsing back into silence.Instead of looking at the lavish facilities, his dark eyes kept drifting back to us. He watched every step we took, measuring the distan
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