Her writing—if you can call the drafts in her notebook writing yet—folds precision and tenderness into the same sentence. She composes lists of questions she means to ask, then composes excuses for why she will not ask them. Later she will transcribe them into tighter forms: a paragraph about the smell of chalk after rain, a sentence that captures a student’s dog-eared enthusiasm. Her voice is careful; it prefers a single precise verb to a crowd of adjectives.