His Broken Angel's Dying Secret

nst the blackboard snapped Claire's attent

o," Mr. York instructed the class. "W

nd pulled the zipper

notebooks and folders.

ropped into

o violently she had collapsed at her desk. She had blacked

xtbook was still sittin

ly broke out acros

first day. She could not draw that

oard. He began walking down the narro

footsteps

rs nervously twisted the loose yarn

tched tight acr

rantic rustling of her clothes and her rapid

letely empty desk. He looked down at her w

exactly what

directly in front

said, his voice stern. "

their seats. Some students smirk

mouth. Her throat

trying to formulat

suddenly slid across t

in front of Clair

a deep, rou

ed her head

is long legs were stretched out under t

ith immediate anger. He tu

textbook, Mr. Dal

ets of his leather jacket. He tilted his c

," Bishop

oom went d

in a loud breath

He pulled a pink slip of paper from his sh

apped, his voice shaking with fury. "I a

en look at the s

k so hard it slammed in

from the floor. He didn't look at Mr

t down the aisle

slammed shut behind

t of her. The cover was still slightly warm f

ly rang, Claire pac

casually asked where the lockers for the jun

llways were packed with stude

d down the quiet north corridor until she fou

and right. The h

cket of her sweater and pull

y hard candy wrapp

sgusting chemical taste of her chemotherapy.

her bag. She clicked her pen and wrot

nk

y. She pushed it through the narrow ventilati

p softly onto wh

h seemed to loosen just a fraction. A

the cafeteria, her thin frame disa

ll. He had just walked out of the principal's office after enduring a twenty-minute

Claire's retreating ba