Next to her, Dany can hear Liz muttering. It’s no more than a ghostly whisper, the curling edges of her words falling just short of comprehension.
Her classmates aren’t looking at the teacher, not anymore.
The entire class, turning in their seats, is looking at Liz Greene.
All around Liz, they’re reacting. Like the rings that form on the surface of the water after it has swallowed a stone. Stiffening backs, half-turned faces, and there, in the centre of it all, Liz. She is hunched over the table, pulling at her hair. Sweaty strands hang over her eyes like a ragged curtain. Dany tries to look, to see why Liz is upset. But when she turns Liz’s way, her desk mate reacts instantly, turning in her seat, her shoulder shielding her notes.
Liz is scribbling so furiously that her pencil te
