Ms. Parrish kept a corkboard behind the front desk, and on the corkboard, under a faded flyer about flu shots, was a typed sheet titled MORNING OFFICE AIDES.
Emma saw it the second she walked in. She didn't look at it. She looked at the bowl of butterscotch candies on the counter instead, and took one, and said good morning like a normal person.
"You're up early, dear," said Ms. Parrish, without lifting her eyes from the attendance printout. She wore a cardigan the color of oatmeal and a chain of tiny glass beads around her glasses. "Late slip?"
"Just a pencil. Mine snapped."
"Supply closet's open until nine. Help yourself. Mr. Tate unlocks it at a quarter to seven for the aides, and some mornings he forgets to lock it back up, so half this school has been in there at one point or anot
