Fiona Loomis back home, sixth-grade English class, called to the blackboard.
“Diagram the sentence,” Mrs. Delson said.
On the blackboard was written: The petulant girl ran away from home. Fiona grumbled something under her breath and picked up the chalk. She held it close to the blackboard for a second, then set it down on the sill. She grabbed the eraser and ran it across the slate, wiping the sentence into oblivion. She walked back to her seat.
“Miss Loomis,” Mrs. Delson said, “why would you do that?”
“I don’t like that sentence,” Fiona said as she sat.
“Well, I hope you like staying after class,” Mrs. Delson said.
Later, through the foyer windows, Alistair saw Fiona standing outside on the basketball courts, clapping two blackboard erasers together. A cloud of chalk dust hung in front of her like a ghost.