He had a resealable baggie. Inside, there was a business card with a propeller icon, like the one on Aerobat’s chest, there was a sheet of stickers, temporary tattoos, a white pen with a logo on it, and a trading card.

She held it against her chest with both hands.

“The other thing we try to do,” he said, “is we ask people if there’s anything we can do to help. Is there anything you need, Kanzi?”

She had to think about it.

“Could I have a hug?” she asked.

“Oh, kid,” Aerobat said. “I would really love to give you one, but there’s a whole thing going on elsewhere, and we’re being told to limit physical contact until it blows over.”

“Okay.”

He hesitated before venturing, “What do you say I hold your hand, instead?”

She nodded again.

His hand was huge and warm. There was a bit of gravel in the fabric somehow, but he didn’t seem to notice. It dug into her finger a bit, but she didn’t want to point it out, in case the guy let go and left.

A little while passed before a woman approached. She was white, short, and not especially thin.

“Hi, Mrs. Yaris.”

“Hi, Aerobat.”

“June’s a friend,” Aerobat said. “It’s her job to make sure you’re safe and happy. You and a lot of other kids. She’s gotten good at it.”

“I wish,” Mrs. Yaris said. Her tone softened as she looked at Kanzi. “I manage.”

“I don’t really get it,” Kanzi said.

“What do you think happens next?”

Kanzi shrugged. “The police had a lot of questions for me. I think my parents are going to get a ticket, like when my dad speeds, then I’ll go back.”

“Part of what I do, Kanzi, is I make sure that the young people assigned to me are comfortable and safe. When we don’t know for sure if the situation is a good one, we temporarily assign people to homes.”

Kanzi digested that.

“What do you think?” Aerobat asked.

“Please,” Kanzi said, barely audible.

⊙

“Her teachers sing her praises, she hasn’t been in any trouble, and her grades are stellar.”

Mrs. Yaris was doing most of the talking. Kanzi hid behind the woman, looking up at the men.

One was bearded, thick black hair in a topknot. His chest was barrel-shaped, with the hooded t-shirt he wore straining across it. A tattoo, black ink on black skin, was only barely visible. Letters. She only saw ‘wall’ at the end.

The other man was skinny, with a button-up shirt done up all the way. He had a receding hairline, a line of beard going from lower lip to chin, and lips that didn’t quite meet, just a bit of teeth showing when his expression was normal.

“Kanzi,” Mrs. Yaris said. “This is Keith and Antonio.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Kanzi said.