The Old Green Duffel Bag That Taught a Town How to Breathe

One girl came in with fresh mascara over swollen eyes.

One boy had his hoodie pulled so low I could barely see his face.

Another kid, a linebacker built like a grown man, flinched when somebody dropped a binder.

So I pulled out a stack of index cards.

“Three rules,” I said. “No names. No jokes. No lies.”