Mina pushed open the heavy double doors. Bright murals covered every wall — a rainbow, a rocket, a giggling sun.
Too many voices. Too many feet. Mina gripped her backpack straps until her knuckles turned white.
She found an empty desk by the window and sat down. She pulled out her coloring book.
She colored one small square. Then — snap. Her pink crayon broke in half.
Two desks away, a boy had a giant blue circle and a fresh box of crayons.
Mina stood up. She walked over. She held out the two pieces.
The boy broke off a green crayon and handed it to her. "For you," he said.
The crayon was smooth and cool against her fingers. She sat back down beside him.
She colored a tall tree. He colored a round ball underneath it. Mina smiled.
The bell rang. But nobody moved.
