“You’d have hated the reunion,” said Derek across the table to Maria, his wife. “Morgan, who wrote those fantasy stories the teachers raved about. He pens greenwash for corporations. And Isabella, who won the charity fundraising prize. Remember her? Investment banker.”
The day Derek fell for Maria they were thirteen. She’d tied herself to a tree by the football field to save it from being felled. She alone from her class had reached her potential.
Maria extended her arm toward Derek.
“Mam,” uttered a guard. “Refrain from physical contact.”
She’d be out next year. Free for another crack at the dam.