THE MYSTERY OF GIRLS' SCHOOL

Another peaceful day at school

The next day, even though everyone came to school, all the students were only talking about what happened the previous night. Ricky and Emmy were discussing it too. Clovie couldn’t join the conversation because she was in a different classroom—Emmy and Ricky were in another.

“Lucky for us, M.P. didn’t come to school today,” Ricky said happily. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t even get a chance to gossip like this.”

“That’s true,” Emmy agreed. “Even when M.P. does come, all she does is give lectures.”

M.P. was how they referred to their teacher, *Mariott Pollan*.

“But wait… I wonder if she’s teaching Clovie’s class too,” Emmy said. Before Ricky could answer, she shouted, “I’ll go check!” and ran off toward Clovie’s classroom.

“Hey Ricky! Why are you running back so fast?” Anna, their class monitor, asked. She had been standing next to Emmy and noticed Ricky come back out of breath.

“Mr. Mortimore is teaching Clovie’s class. He gives work to anyone who passes by. I ran back before he saw me. You know… he can’t stand seeing us just standing around doing nothing.”

Soon, the bell rang. Some students ran to the playground, others headed to the cafeteria. Our three young detectives always met up in the cafeteria.

“You guys know something?” Clovie said, sipping her milk packet. “Today’s basically a write-off. After the next bell, we won’t even meet again until school ends. You know why? Because today, we had…”

“…Mr. Mortimore, right? I saw him teaching your class,” Ricky said.

“Yeah. He said he’s giving us a bunch of math problems for tomorrow too,” Clovie said with a sour face. “What did you guys learn today?”

“Today M.P. didn’t come to school. I heard she’s sick,” Emmy said as she got up to grab a few more sandwiches.

“Then you guys should go see her. She’s staying in our boarding house anyway,” Clovie said.

Ricky nearly choked on her water.

“What?! You’re saying M.P. is staying in our boarding house?”

Clovie just nodded.

“Ah… sorry Ricky, I forgot to tell you,” Emmy said, coming back with the sandwiches. “M.P. moved into the boarding house three days ago.”

“You could’ve told me that a bit earlier,” Ricky muttered, glaring.

She really was quick to get angry. But she wasn’t all bad—she had her good sides too.