It felt like fear that had learned to obey.
That morning, the class activity was supposed to be innocent.
Miguel asked the children to draw their families, a warm exercise before reading time.
The room filled with color, noise, and small arguments about who had taken the blue crayon.The question was so impossible that Professor Miguel felt ashamed the moment it escaped his mouth.
She was only seven years old, sitting in the corner of the classroom with her pink backpack crushed against her chest.
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