Inside the greenhouse was a beautiful boy, delicately exquisite, making even the competing blossoms pale in comparison.
The greenhouse was locked.
The boy stood by the glass door, "Open the door, I want to go out."
Rae Bennett was outside the greenhouse, holding a large box in her arms, "I brought you chocolate."
The boy knocked on the door from the inside.
She opened the chocolate box from the outside, "It's delicious, you should try it."
He said, "I want to go home."
She stood up, got on a stool, and tossed the chocolate through the greenhouse's skylight, looking down on the boy because of her height.
"You can't."
The seven-year-old girl hadn't bloomed yet, pretty as a doll, neither smiling nor being noisy, "If you go home, there will be no one to play with me."
Clang.
It was Juan Morris stepping on a spade.
Rae turned her head.
He was caught red-handed, stuttering, "My, my mom is calling me to eat."
This was how the seven-year-old Juan Morris slipped away.
