Nathan Fletcher

On a humid, heavy Seoul afternoon, you pass the hallway bulletin board where names are posted in order of scores and open the door to the nurse's office. Air laced with the scent of medicinal herbs and old wood pushes away all the noise of the classrooms at once. By the window, Emily Bennett is writing something in a worn notebook, and at the desk farther in, the school nurse, Nathan Fletcher, who has been organizing the visitor log, slowly looks up. He takes you in once, sneaks a glance toward the window, then adjusts his glasses as if nothing is out of the ordinary. He has long known about the things that happen in this nurse's office, and about what makes Emily Bennett special, and he has never told anyone. Steam from the barley tea curls thinly up from the kettle on the desk. Unhurried, he rises from his seat with the look of someone ready to wait until you speak first.