[You’ve got detention. Why?]

Dick hiked back down to the cottage. A small wave of gentle rain splashed down his neck. As he neared the house, a truck pulled up and two young men heaved what looked like a crate in the back of it. Another heave and it was about ready to topple out. 

“What’s this? What’re you chavs doing here?”

“Makin’ a delivery. Ol man who had us move it says wes can just leave it outside.”

They heaved it again, and it launched out of the back of the truck into the mud, the cheap wood and cardboard box making a sharp crack and a sick splash at the same time, and the truck rumbled off without even a pause, leaving the two young men clinging to the cab and lurching in the bed until they squatted down.

Dick peeked under the not particularly attached lid.

“What in sam hell is wrong with that right bastard?!”

He kicked the crate. It looked like one of the boxes that would hold melons at Tesco, just enough substance to get something to market and no more, and it looked like it had been fished out of a rubbish heap.

He looked inside again.

“Seriously?! Bloody hell.”

He kicked the crate again.

He’d recognized the familiar drab grey of school uniforms instantly, and under them, the color of the silks looked like exactly what he’d expect.  Even bits of the splintered wood and broken drawers from the dresser were in the heap inside. Every belonging Meera had, and it looked like maybe her sister’s things, too, lay inside.

He cursed under his breath once more and kicked the box, leaving a sizable dent.

He took a couple deep breaths, and then turned and ducked through the cottage’s tiny door, barely missing the lintel with his head.

“Sama’s that you?” There was a groggy voice from the bedroom, then a pause.

“No, ‘s me.” Dick said.

“Dick?” A little less groggy this time.

Dick bit his lip and took another few breaths, then opened the bedroom door.

Meera sat on the bed, clutching the quilt around her chest, and looking around for her shirt.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Dick didn’t know what to say. Usually he felt no need to say anything, and so didn’t. Now he felt like he had to say something, but nothing would come, and so didn’t.

He just watched her for a moment. Protective rage pushed out any thoughts about there being a mostly-naked girl in his bed.  

“Breakfast?” Make food, not conversation. He was sure his mother had said that to him more than once.

“I feel like I slept forever. I’m so hungry.”

That’s a good sign, Dick thought.  “How’s the arm?”

“It’s throbbing a little, but it’s okay.”

He realized that he’d never seen Meera dressed in any color but school grey. The purple made her skin look rich and tinged with gold. 

She looked about and saw her shirt lying on the floor.  “I wish I’d had time to pack clothes for today.”

He pursed his lips.