“Can you wait until I’m done with this section?” He asks, winces, and tsks loudly three times.
The librarian glares at him, unsure if he’s doing it on purpose. He’s not.
“Because I’m illiterate. I meant why are you studying, obviously. We won’t be able to go, even if we get out of here.” Miranda doesn’t grieve the lost opportunity. She hasn’t bothered with school in years.
“I will,” he says softly. “I’m going to become a lawyer. I’ll defend the people who need it most.”
Her eyes narrow, but she waits until he’s done, anyway.