As Mom is lowering me down from the lift next to the front doors of the school (she doesn’t even try for the handicapped spots), she says, “Now, they don’t have an official aide for you yet, but Rachel in the front office will do until Mrs. Rutherford can find someone permanent.”

“Mom, I don’t need an aide.” I whisper it because Coralee is waiting for me with her backpack slung over her arm, which is a purse in leopard print. Bert has already wandered off.

“Ellie, you had an aide back home. Lauren helped you get from class to class and in the restroom only when you needed her. I’ve instructed Rachel to do the same.”

“But I don’t get as tired now. I’m stronger than I was. Please don’t make some old lady follow me around!”

Mom is zipping my lunch into my backpack and ignoring me. “Rachel isn’t some old lady, honey. She’s Evelyn’s niece.”

“You have got to be kidding.”

“I am not.” She hangs my backpack on the back of my chair. “And you will be fine, because you’re right, you’re stronger than you were, inside and out,” she says, and kisses me.

“All right, all right, stop with the mushy. I’m going,” I grumble.

None of the other kids look our way, but they shift so me and Coralee are a bubble of aloneness in the crowd.

I look back once, even though I wasn’t going to, right before we move through the doors. Mom’s still there, cupping her hands together like she’s praying.

Coralee is in A group, so she has a different homeroom. I end up having to say good-bye to her halfway down the hall. She blows me a kiss and straightens my backpack like Mom did.

“Be good, honey-baby-child,” she sings, and walks away backward, right as Rachel puts a hand on my wheel. Her face is powdered so white she looks like a ghost, except for the peach lipstick, which is also on her teeth. I remember Evelyn at church. It must be genetic.

“Ready for your big first day?” She is not a big person and she’s not standing too close or anything, but something about her makes me want to shrink down in my chair like a turtle. She smells like that really strong perfume at the department store—the one they’re always spraying in the air and trying to give away in free samples.

“Thanks. I got it from here.”

“Okay, Lily. Now, if you need me, I’ll be in the front office. And if you need to use the bathroom,” she whispers, “just get a pass from your teacher and come find me.”

Never, never, never, I think as I roll into homeroom.