The boys gathered the next afternoon beneath their old hangout tree, humbled and whimpering. For once, Connor had to rally them. He scowled, “We should ask her, prove our worth!” Trevor was unconvinced, clutching his stomach like a war wound. Malik muttered, “Well, we stole her cookies, you know…”
Furious at their timidity, Connor marched alone up Magnolia’s path. He rehearsed insults in his head, anger rumbling over yesterday’s humiliation. She was on her porch, as always, rocking chair creaking under the weight of time. A basket of folded linens sat at her feet. She looked harmless as clouds.