Hana looked up, sensing his gaze. She started in fright and then smiled. He gave her a small wave, aware of the Year 13s studying behind him. “How’s it going?” He pointed to the cardboard in front of her.
“It’s a floor plan.” Hana sat back on her heels and knitted her brow. “Don’t you teach Year 9s this period?”
Logan grimaced and offered her his hand. She took it and hauled herself upright. “I love you,” he whispered, running his fingers up the side of her face. “Promise you know that.”
Hana nodded, distracted by the titter of laughter from the common room. Logan responded by kicking the door shut with his foot, raising a whoop from a Year 13 just outside. “I need to talk you.” He kept his voice low. Hana sensed his alarm and stiffened.
“What’s happened?”
“I’m taking you to the hotel
