Jayden broke the seal. During independent reading, he walked over. He looked at me. I pretended to be busy grading papers. He grabbed the blue puffer. He put it on.
He sat back down, and for the first time in a week, he stopped vibrating.
By Friday, the Coat Library was empty.
A girl who usually spent recess huddled by the brick wall was running tag in the red hood. Two boys were taking turns wearing the camo jacket—one wore it out, the other wore it back in.
“Rock, paper, scissors for the hood,” I heard them whisper. They were negotiating warmth like it was currency.
Then came the moment that gutted me.
