Her right hand, with a splint, was hanging in front of her chest.
Her originally thick bangs were clipped to the top of her head by a hairpin, revealing a face as delicate as jade.
A gentle breeze blew, making the hem of her skirt flutter.
Beside her was a young girl in a blue tracksuit. Her round face was tense, exuding a solemn and murderous aura as if she were heading for a battlefield.
Behind them were four bodyguards in black, walking in unison, showing signs of being highly trained.
Everyone's eyes were fixed on the figure in lotus - colored dress at the front.
Unlike the solemnity of those around her, Claire Wentworth even had a faint smile on her lips, as if she was glad that she had finally managed to return within thirty minutes.
With this shout from outside, in the classr
