INFILTRATION

"What else can you hear?" My sister asked.

"Music. A woman is playing old Western songs in her vehicle. A sedan, I presume," I answered.

"You've improved, actually," my father remarked. "Some days ago, you would be hearing everything."

"Since we're done perfecting my long-range hearing, can we work on my other skills?" I asked.

"Since you ain't going to school, that would be tomorrow," my dad responded.

"Why would you say I'm not going to school?" I questioned.

"Because you haven't fully recovered or mastered your skills. The worst part is, you have some weirdos looking for you," my sister chimed in.

"Dad, it was only the hearing that posed a problem. I've mastered it now. Let me go to school, please," I pleaded.

"Kiddo, we can't take that risk right now. It's too much," my dad said.

"It's not as if they'll attack a school. Please, Dad," I pleaded with a sober face.