Lunch tables were folded and moved to the side. The entire cafeteria was dark except for the giant mirrored disco ball installed on the ceiling. It illuminated a myriad of glittering silver lights, creating a serene effect.

Tonight, the stage came alive with a large Christmas tree with wrapped presents underneath. A colorful pinata hung in mid-air. A table was set up on stage left with a burning menorah in the middle, and two dreidels on each side. Another table was set up on the opposite side, covered with a Pan-African flag. A mkeka laid on the table, with a basket of muhindi and a bowl of fruits on top.

It was a night that celebrated multi-culturalism. The choir members were dressed up in clothing that represented various countries, as they delighted the audience with songs about how Christmas was celebrated all over the world. Granted, they were no Chicago Symphony Chorus, but the children had worked hard, as reflected in the enthusiastic response from the audience.

Sitting in a blue plastic stack chair, Luc squirmed in discomfort. He'd been sitting for almost two hours, and his legs were going numb. He glanced at the side exit and wondered if anyone would miss him if he went out for a while. He squirmed again. His aunt, sitting next to him, turned and gave him a disapproving look. His uncle, however, took one look at him, then got up and picked up his crutches. Quietly, he guided Luc out of the cafeteria.

A couple of PTA parents who were setting up the refreshment tables looked up when the two came out. Uncle Shing gave them a nod and smile and turned to his nephew.

"Are you okay?" his uncle asked.

"My butt hurts," Luc complained with a pout.

His uncle chuckled. "Those chairs can do that to you." 

The uncle-nephew duo hung around the foyer, which had transformed from a dreary-looking space to a mini winter wonderland. The droopy green plants by the doors were removed to make room for the artificial snow and Christmas tree. Nearby, a life-size cardboard gingerbread house stood near the office door. A joint project by all three of the sixth-grade classes, the festive display looked almost edible, its vivid yet childlike details reflected in the painted roof, hand-drawn candy canes, and swirly-colored paper plates wrapped in cellophane paper. 

A soothing melody drifted from the cafeteria as the choir performed the final number, but Luc was distracted by something not even the Christmas decorations could conceal. A wave of sadness came over him as his eyes landed on half of a 'Missing' flyer. It jutted out from behind the gingerbread house, providing Luc with a perfect view of Jayla's smiling face, a somber reminder that she was not here with him tonight.

It had been almost a month. At this point, the police had all but given up. They had canvased the area where Jayla was supposedly last seen but found nothing. They'd questioned the teachers, her mother, brother, the neighbors, but no one could give them anything useful. There was no ransom note, no witnesses, and no clues as to where she went.

Jayla Bennett had vanished without a trace.

Some said she ran away, that she couldn't stand the abuse at home anymore, but Luc knew his best friend would never do that. Sweet, cute, bubbly Jayla, who always had a smile on her face. At lunch, she'd shared her measly brown-bag meal with anyone who couldn't afford to buy food. During recess, she'd sit patiently with Luc at the school playground rather than run off with her friends. To Luc, Jayla was like an angel, always putting others first.

Luc felt his heart shattered into a million pieces as he stared at the flyer.

Where are you, Jay?

He was roused from his thoughts by his uncle's voice. "Your aunt and I have been talking about Christmas."

The boy looked away from the 'Missing' flyer. "What about it?" he asked. Christmas at their house had always been ordinary. They would follow the American traditions of decorating the tree and exchanging gifts. After attending the Christmas service at their local church, they'd head to the Chinese-American community center for the annual winter gathering.

His Uncle Shing hesitated. "We're thinking about inviting your Aunt Dominique and Uncle Hector over for dinner."

Luc's eyes widened in surprise. After his father died, they had practically cut off all ties with his side of the family. Most of them resided in France. However, his father's sister, Dominique, had chosen to settle in America after meeting her husband Hector, a Greek businessman. Luc didn't remember much about them, just some vague memories of being in a house full of people who looked like his father, speaking in a language he didn't quite understand. Gabby, on the other hand, had a different experience. While Aunt Dominique and Uncle Hector were kind to her, the rest of the relatives were a different story.

"Just Aunt Dominique and Uncle Hector?" he asked his uncle.

"Yeah," Uncle Shing replied. "I spoke to her on the phone a few days ago. Your relatives won't be coming over for Christmas. Instead, your aunt and uncle will fly back to France in February for the Nice Carnival."

Luc nodded. "Okay." To be honest, he didn't even remember what his aunt and uncle look like, but if Gabby said they were nice, then they couldn't be that bad.

Uncle Shing smiled and patted Luc's shoulder. Just then, people began to pour out of the cafeteria. The concert was over.

-------------------------------

"There you are," Aunt April said as she came up to them. "Are you okay?" she asked Luc. The boy nodded. "All right," she said. "I'm going to go get Gabby, and we'll leave."

"So soon?" Uncle Shing asked in surprise.

Aunt April nodded while adjusting the shoulder strap of her bag. "If we leave now, we won't have to fight our way out of the parking lot." She looked up and met her husband's eyes. "Why? Do you have something to do here?"

Uncle Shing scratched his head awkwardly. "Well, I...." he began.

Aunt April narrowed her eyes. She knew that look. "You didn't," she deadpanned.

Uncle Shing shrugged helplessly. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small stack of fliers.

Aunt April wanted to throttle him. "You have got to be kidding me," she said, her hands on her hips.

"Well, I just thought tonight would be a good opportunity to promote the restaurant," Uncle Shing tried to explain.

"You promised," Aunt April hissed, trying not to attract any attention. "We promised Gabby!"

"What's going on?" As if on cue, Gabby came up to them. She took one look at the fliers in her uncle's hands and groaned. "Really, Uncle Shing?" she asked incredulously.

Uncle Shing looked to Luc for help as his wife and niece stood side by side, both with a scowl on their face.

"Can I at least have one brownie before we leave?" Luc spoke up.

Almost immediately, all eyes were trained on him. At the mention of brownies, Gabby perked up. Right away, she forgot about the fliers. 

"Please, Auntie?" she pleaded. "Mrs. Whitman's brownies are amazing."

Aunt April glared at Luc as if to say 'whose side are you on.' Luc stared back innocently. She rolled her eyes. "Just one brownie," she said reluctantly.

With a gleeful squeal, Gabby all but yanked her brother into the crowd. She grabbed a paper plate and together the siblings joined the line at the refreshment table. 

Aunt April watched them disappear into the crowd and shook her head. Tonight is going to be a long night, she thought. She'd tried to regulate the kids' eating habits the best she could, but limiting their sugar intake had become mission impossible in a country known for its massive sugar consumption.

"You realize they're not just going to have one brownie, right?" Her husband's voice caused her to turn. One look at him reminded her of the fliers, and her scowl returned.

"Dealing with two sugar-high kids is the least of my worries right now, Shing," she shot back, hands on her hips.

Uncle Shing held up his hands in surrender. "I know. I know," he said. He put the fliers back into his jacket. "There. Happy?" he asked. He gave his wife a goofy smile, his eyes crinkled into the shape of crescent moons.

Aunt April's scowl wavered. He'd pull this stunt whenever she got angry, knowing full well that it was one of the things she loved about him. She tried to stay mad, but already her eyes had softened. Finally, she chuckled, a sign that all was forgiven.

"I told Luc about our plans for Christmas dinner," said Uncle Shing.

That got her attention. "What did he say?"

"He's okay with it," her husband answered. "To be honest, I don't think he remembers them," he said. "He was, after all, barely two years old when Eric took him to meet his family," he added with a shrug.

"True," Aunt April agreed. She watched as Gabby walked along the refreshment table and, true to Uncle Shing's prediction, filled it with various snacks from the table while her brother slowly trailed behind her. Occasionally, she would turn and see if Luc wanted anything, before piling more food onto the plate. "Well, Gabby said she's okay with it, too, so I guess we'll..."

Crash!

-------------------------------

Gabby was just about to pour Luc a cup of Sprite when she heard a crash. Quickly, she looked over.

"That's not yours!" someone shouted.

The foyer became silent as everyone stopped talking and focused on two kids standing near the corner table. There was a heap of brown, red and green on the floor, surrounded by broken glass.

Luc craned his neck, trying to see what was happening.

"It's Deondre," his sister whispered.

Luc blinked in surprise. Curious, he took a step forward to get a better view. He hadn't seen Deondre since that day in the library. Even from a distance, he could still make out the dark circles under his eyes, and a hole on his gray hoodie. In fact, the boy looked thinner since the last time they saw each other.

"That's not yours!" the same person repeated. Luc recognized him as Bronson, a sixth grader. He had never met him, but Gabby was in choir with him. From the looks of it, he guessed that mess on the floor was his mother's homemade fruitcake.

"What's going on here?" The vice principal's voice called out, stomping down the hallway. Hastily, he brushed people out of the way as he attempted to reach the two kids.

Suddenly, there were some startled cries and yelps, and Luc was pulled back by Gabby just in time to watch a flash of gray and black whizzed past him. He watched Deondre ran around the corner and was gone in seconds.

There were murmurs of confusion and disapproval among the crowd, which were broken by Mrs. Catlow's hasty apology alongside with the vice principal's reassurance that everything was all right. Soon, everyone went back to what they were doing before the abrupt interruption. Conversations resumed as if the incident never occurred.

"That was... fast," Gabby commented. 

Luc turned to look at her. "Why is he here?"

Gabby took a bite of a brownie and shrugged. "Who knows? I haven't seen him at school for a while now," she replied. "Not since his sister..." she broke off and looked at Luc anxiously.

Bronson's voice interrupted the sibling's conversation. "Can you believe the nerve of that kid?" he demanded. Luc and Gabby looked over as a group of fifth and sixth graders gathered next to them.

"It's okay, Bronson." Someone tried to calm him down. "This happens all the time. There're always kids stopping by to eat after the concert."

"I don't care. My mom made that cake. He had no right to just take it!" Bronson ranted. "You didn't see him, Katie. He cut out almost half of it!" His arms flailed with exaggerated gestures. Luc almost snorted.

"Maybe he's hungry," Katie pointed out. "He kinda looked thinner since the last time I saw him."

"Speaking of that, what happened to him?" a boy with thick brown hair and wire-rimmed glasses asked.

"Why do you care?" Bronson grumbled. "Nobody likes him. In fact, the whole school hates him." Spotting Gabby, he pointed at her. "You would know, right?" he asked her.

Gabby blinked. "Uh..."

"I mean, Deondre picked on your brother a lot." Bronson kept on going, uncaring that he had cut Gabby off. "Didn't he beat him up so bad last time that he ended up in the hospital?" At that, all eyes turned to Luc. The boy looked down, uncomfortable with the sudden attention.

"Are you kids ready to go?"

Luc sighed in relief. Perfect timing, auntie. He nodded eagerly. Gabby used this chance to say goodbye to the group and went off to throw away their plate and cups. Luc was just about to follow his aunt when suddenly, an idea came to him. 

"I need to use the restroom," he said to his aunt.

Aunt April looked at the dispersing crowd with concern and turned back to Luc. "Can't it wait until we get home?"

Luc shook his head. He looked at his aunt desperately, as if the restroom trip was an urgent one.

"Fine, we will wait for you by the main entrance," his aunt told him with a sigh. Luc waited until his aunt had disappeared into the crowd before hobbling over to a plump woman near the drinks table.

"Mrs. Bridges?"

The woman turned. "Luc," she exclaimed with a big smile. "How are you, sweetie? Sam told me you're back in school."

"I'm fine, thank you," Luc answered politely. "I was wondering..."

-------------------------------

He shivered in the freezing night. Deondre knew he probably should've put on an extra coat before leaving home, but it was too late to go back now. He didn't want to face his mother's drunken anger. It was becoming a routine. He'd come home to find his mother passed out on the couch, clean up the place as best and as quietly as possible, before locking himself in his room for the rest of the night.

On a good night, he would be able to sleep through the night and leave for school before his mom woke up. On a bad night, he would be hiding in his closet while she went on a drunken rampage outside his bedroom.

Tonight was a bad night.

He curled himself into a ball and closed his eyes. Sleeping in a tube slide at the school playground wasn't pleasant, but it was better than risking his mom breaking down the door. His stomach growled. He thought about that table full of delicious treats and wondered if he should try to sneak back into the school.

He heard the sound of approaching footsteps. His eyes stayed closed, figuring it might be a mere passerby. The sound became louder. Deondre tensed. Those aren't normal footsteps.

There was a pause.

"I know you're in there," a small voice called out. Deondre's eyes shot open. Luc?

"Here."

He heard some crinkling sounds, then the sounds of fading footsteps, or rather, fading limping sounds. It wasn't long before he heard a door slam. Frowning, Deondre slid down and stood up. He rubbed his hands and let out a puff of air as he surveyed the quiet playground. There was no one around. He turned around and stopped.

Sitting on top of the tube slide was a clear plastic bag. In it were a brownie, some cookies, two rice Krispies, and a piece of fruitcake.

-------------------------------

"You're in a good mood," Gabby remarked as they were heading home.

Luc shrugged. "It's Christmas," he said casually. He continued to look out the car window. Given how slow Uncle Shing was going, Luc was able to get a good look at the Christmas decorations as he passed by each house.

The car pulled to a stop at the intersection. "Oh, don't forget to bring the coupons to the restaurant tomorrow." He heard his aunt say. "We should probably drop some off at the community center, too."

"Don't worry. I'll ask Matt to do it tomorrow," Uncle Shing told her.

Luc paid little attention to them. His mind was preoccupied with Deondre's unexpected appearance. It'd felt weird to see him like this. Gone was the loud, intimidating bully who'd pick on him every chance he got, replaced with a tired-looking boy wearing ragged clothes. Maybe I could- 

The sound of screeching tires snapped him out of his thoughts. He felt the car lurch as his uncle slammed on the breaks. The blast of a car horn pierced through the peaceful night. Bright lights flooded the car. Luc felt a slam, and sounds of metal and glass breaking were drowned out by screams before he was jerked to the side.

Everything went black.