The Leebie of Akeres, who handled every situation with calm control, felt like a stranger to her

When Shaya arrived home from school missing his briefcase,

his glasses, and a legitimate story to back up those losses, the idea cemented in Leebie’s mind: art lessons. She hadn’t discussed it with Amram, but she would call this teacher meanwhile, if not out of sheer desperation, then merely out of curiosity.

And when the teacher, a guy by the name of Heshy Tolner, told her he was starting a new class that very night (“In three hours from now, actually, at eight o’clock, but I think we could still squeeze in one more kid”), she didn’t want to miss the chance and immediately signed Shaya up.

Now, she was glad she did.

“I’ll be back in an hour to pick you up,” she told Shaya.

He didn’t seem to hear her. His eyes were popping at the sight of the sketchpads and pastels on the long wooden table. Good thing he had a spare pair of glasses, ugly as they were.

Leebie lingered another minute, watching as the group of boys settled around the table, then left.

When she got home, Amram came out of his study and raised his palms inquiringly. “Where were you? I was looking for you. You didn’t answer my texts. And where’s Shaya?”

Her fingers rolled into her palms, tightly, until her nails dug through her skin.

And then, as spontaneously as she’d made the decision to sign Shaya up for those art classes, she made the decision not to tell Amram about them.