Sophia:
A brief recess was given, one fifteen-minute period that was chaotic and full of camera flashes, while I comforted my brother, who asked questions I couldn't possibly answer.
"Why did she do that to me?"
"Why Stanley?"
"Why me?"
I couldn't think of the answers; I couldn't think of the words he needed to hear so desperately, so I held him, soaking up his sadness like a sponge. If I could draw it all in, he would be okay. I knew if I couldn't answer his challenging questions, I could try to take his pain. So we sat, and I hummed. The tender tune of Hostage by Billie Eilish rolled through the mahogany hallways like a ghost, like a shadow so full of pain and benevolence that the paint on the ceilings could peel beneath the weight of its force.
"Let me crawl inside your veins. I
