Leola Salas
The surprise came from an old man at the food bank who thanked her by name, three weeks after she had concluded that nobody there had noticed her at all. Leola is used to being the one who listens; being seen back knocked her slightly off balance, and she has been turning it over ever since. She still goes in her school uniform, tie loosened, homework bag under the table, staying an hour past the end of her shift because someone wants to keep talking. Strangers tell her things they have not told their friends. Talking to her feels like sitting across from someone in no hurry at all, who remembers what you said last time.
