Mrs.Linturnedawayandthrewdownherfinalorderlikeaverdict:

        “Gowashyourfacewithcoldwater,taketwoPanadol,adressed.Thenineo’clockeseliteraturereviewisnotoptional.I’mgoingtowatchyouleaveinabit.”

        Herfootstepsfaded,leavingCraalohthecleofthedoorway.

        Shebracedherselfagainstthewalndsliddownontotheicyfloor.Thefour-tatamiroomfeltlikeacageshecouldn’tescape.Ihebckfive-stringbassstoodquietly—liketheonlypieceofdriftwoodshecouldgrab,aimpossiblyheavy.

        Dizzinessrolledierwave.

        Crastaredatthethick,uglycallushtthumb—hard-won,stubborn—andforthefirsttime,hereyesburhaphysical,untrolblesting.

        Susalwayshadstandardanswers.Pluginthecorrectdata,andyougotaresult.

        Butinthissuffogseventeen-year-oldlife,nomatterhowcarefullyshecalcuted,nomatterhowhardshegrittedherteethandheldon—

        realitynevergaveherasolutionthatletherbreathe.

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