Anya

We walk into Maya's class and there she is seated, staring into an empty space. I try to read her mind, but can't. It feels like an endless void, the kind I felt the day I connected to Mr Rodriguez. Just dark! Perhaps, it was the distance between us, so I close the gap as fast as I can.

Getting close to her, I squat down by her feet to directly look into her eyes, but her gaze is far away. It feels as if she is in a different world altogether. She doesn't say a word to either myself or Caleb, let alone acknowledge our presence. Out of desperation to make contact with her, I glance at the table and I take one of her hands into mine. Her usually soft and warm palm feels cold. Outside, the sun seems to be in a competition with humans to ascertain who is hotter. “So, why is her palm this cold?” I whisper to myself. If a pin had dropped on the floor, it will be like a bomb, that's how quiet the classroom is and it's unnerving.

“What's up with her? Can you feel her?” Caleb’s voice rise