Bruises, everywhere.On his legs, petechiae splatter like tiny red droplets.Below ribs, we palpate edges of liver and spleen.In his mouth, gums peel ever so slightly away from teeth—pooled blood glistens, reflecting our light. You glance at me.There is no teacher. No student.Only a shared understanding of what comes next.

My fifth grader received an F in online band.

Flashbacks of a fourth-grade insect lesson…

I successfully extracted the peanut M&M from his 4-year-old nose.

In the clinic, I hear the story: PHQ high, cuts to the wrist, just not fitting in.

Air cool, coffee cold, walking up hill.