“Hey,” Logan said loudly, his voice cutting through the lunchtime chatter, as he pointed a mocking finger across the room directly at Amelia. “Who let the charity case sit all by herself? I thought this was the charity section, right?”

A few students at the surrounding tables chuckled nervously. Most of the other students, however, pointedly looked away, their own discomfort a palpable, silent presence in the room. Amelia didn’t answer. She lowered her gaze, carefully cut a small piece of her bland, government-issue sandwich, and, with a quiet, heartbreaking dignity, kept eating.

That silence, that simple, quiet refusal to engage, seemed to make Logan even more furious. He wasn’t used to being ignored. “Hey! I’m talking to you,” he said, his voice now a low, menacing snarl. He