After my visit to Mrs. Auckland’s room, I had chemistry. That class passed by uneventfully, especially now seeing as most people still weren’t back from their holiday vacations. Lucky turds. Like I gave a damn about the functions of epoxies in modern machinery. Hanna had a heart-shaped pixie face that smiled at me now. It was obvious, though, that she was still hurting. Normally her golden-brown eyes sparkled; not though, they were dead and flat. I became intensely aware then, poised to listen for anything at all in her voice. “Oh, I don’t know,” I admitted. “I have to—” “Probably not.” “True….”