That night, Bram lay in bed, replaying the film in his head鈥攏ot the diagrams, but the faces. The boy who was scared. The nurse who didn鈥檛 laugh. The quiet dignity of being told the truth.
Mrs. Visser considered this. 鈥淪ometimes,鈥� she said. 鈥淏ut not forever.鈥� That night, Bram lay in bed, replaying the
The reel slowed. The last frame flickered, then dissolved into white light. The projector clicked off. Bram lay in bed
Bram felt a hot flush crawl up his neck. He stared at the dust motes dancing in the projector beam, anywhere but the screen. Then the drawings became photographs. A boy鈥檚 face, then a girl鈥檚, their features softening into young adulthood. A boy鈥檚 shoulder broadening. A girl鈥檚 hip curving. then a girl鈥檚
