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The sun pierced the canopy of live oak trees, creating a network of light and shadow that blanketed the sidewalk and street. Through Jackson’s distorted vision, the shadows appeared like a living thing, a blend of dark and light that seemed to move as the breeze blew through the branches overhead. Jackson loved how static New Orleans could be; except for a few days twice a year when they shed their old leaves for new ones, the live oaks that shielded the streets of Uptown could always be relied on. In other cities this time of year was cold and barren, but in New Orleans, the weeks between Christmas and New Year were some of Jackson’s favorites. The air was brisk without being chilly, the sun bright but not painful to his sensitive eyes, and since he’d submitted his final grades he had a few days of peace before the new semester started.