A boy, maybe four or five, with hair split perfectly down the middle—one side white, one side red—sat alone in a too-big room. The lights were dim. From elsewhere in the house, the muffled sound of shouting bled through the walls.

A knock at the glass.

His head snapped up.

On the other side of the window, a face. A girl, all scuffed knees and messy hair, holding up a sandwich wrapped in a napkin.

She smiled.