“Oh, no!” Hana let her head sink onto her forearms as Sheila moved out of earshot.
Pete swivelled his chair around. “He’s been a boxer,” he said and Hana peered sideways to look at him.
“Pardon?”
“Logan. He knows how to box. I’ve never known him lose a fight. You mustn’t worry.”
Hana sat upright. “I’m not worried. Why would I?”
“I dunno.” Pete shrugged. “You just seem it. He’s fine.”
Needing peace, Hana glanced at the clock above Pete’s desk. “Shouldn’t you be teaching now?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. But I don’t like the kids. They call me names.”
Hana groaned and put her head back in her arms. “That’s nothing compared to what Dobbs will do to you. Aren’t you on a written warning next?”
Pete scraped his chair back and glared at Hana with injustice. “That’s a low blow, Hana! Why did you
