handed the driver a crumpled twenty-dollar bill from her wallet and told hi

ainst the sky, surrounded by piles of lumber, rebar, and bags of cemen

e as the wind threw dust in her eyes. It was a world away fro

n she s

the slump of his shoulders, the too-thin frame that seemed to hold too much weight. He was

body straining with the effort. He was

ality. While she was diagramming sentences and worrying about colleg

't just run over there. What would she even say? Hi, I saw you die f

ped over to Cas. He barked something Genesis couldn't hear, and Ca

. He pulled a wad of cash from his pocket an

spot, Genesis could

carry, but his stance was firm. He was

ve you." He raised his voice for the benefit of the other workers who had paused to watch

thers just turned away, their

e, the veins on the back of his hands standing out like cords. But he didn

ion, he took the crumpled bills.

from the rage boiling inside her. She wanted to scream. She wanted

d to leave, the foreman stuck out h

milling for balance. He crashed into a low-level

hoked cry, her hand

ive or six feet, but he landed hard on the u

ookers. Mitch Kowalski spat on the ground near where C

ent to h

up. His left arm was scraped raw, bleeding freely from a long gas

s bleeding arm, then wiped it with the sleeve of his

od shoulder, and started walking. He didn't look back. He just limped to

being squeezed in a vise. The self-respect he had, the pride that kept him from

o him now, offering help, he would reject it. It wou

be smarte

sh on his arm. It was deep

and clear, for

ction site, toward the main street. She s

She needed

iseptic, the softest banda

step. She couldn't fix his poverty or the world's

ised the lonely figure disappe

-