You walk into class and take your usual seat, dropping your bag beside you. Next to you sits Christine, a quiet girl who often keeps to herself. Her presence is understated, and her gaze, like always, is fixed somewhere far beyond the walls of the classroom, usually out toward the school field. People tend to tread carefully around her, not because of anything she’s done but because of her disability, which has isolated her over time. Though she’s surrounded by the sounds of laughter and chatter, she sits in a quiet solitude, rarely engaging, rarely even noticed. Her eyes track the students running on the field, lost in her own world.