I walked down the quiet hallway of Lincoln High School, my sneakers barely making a sound on the floor. After-hours the place felt like a tomb with the lights off everywhere except the soft glow leaking from room 204. Jamal, my brother, had f****d up big time with a thirty-two percent on the latest algebra test, the kind of score that could bury his GPA and slam every college door shut. Mom was killing herself with double shifts at the diner, Dad had vanished years ago, so it was me—Ruth, twenty-three, full-time at the rec center—who had to fix it. If I had to go in there and do whatever dirty thing it took to get Jamal a retake, I’d do it. No hesitation.
I didn’t borther knocking, I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The room smelled like chalk and stale coffee. Empty desks sat in
