Silent Colors of Distress

When did I realize my mute student had been talking the whole time? I was cleaning paintbrushes

after teaching my art class when the principal walked in with a small boy.

She said, "This is Kai. He's joining your class tomorrow. He's been unable

to speak since birth. Rare neurological condition." She handed me this thick medical folder

full of documentation. "His parents enrolled him here, hoping art might help him express

himself." The kid looked really pale and way too skinny for an eight-year-old. When I smiled at

him, trying to be welcoming, he actually flinched backward, which seemed weird,

but I figured he was just shy. The principal mentioned, "His mother insists on staying for the