Fresco stepped out into a dark hall. His socked feet felt carpet. He looked down at the stained and threadbare runner running the length of the long hallway. There were many doors just like his, all closed. The murmur of voices remained, and he tried to figure out where they were coming from.
As he turned to walk down the corridor, he heard a door slam and the sound of running feet. Flinching back against the wall, Fresco watched two kids about twelve and thirteen run laughing past him, one chasing the other. The one in the lead, a boy, grinned at Fresco while the girl close on his heels threw him a wave and a 'hi' on the way by. Fresco held himself still, waiting for his heart to slow as he watched them race to the end of the hall and disappear down a flight of stairs.
He was troubled b
