Chapter 3

The pain was a relentless fire now, spreading up her back.

Ashley felt cold sweat on her forehead. The room was starting to tilt.

"Ms. Davison," Ashley said, her voice weak but firm. "I need to go to the office. I think I'm going to pass out."

She pushed her chair back, trying to stand. Her legs felt like jelly.

Ms. Davison whirled around, her face like thunder.

"Ashley, I have had enough of this behavior! You are not leaving this classroom."

"I'm serious. I need help," Ashley pleaded, taking a wobbly step towards the door.

Ms. Davison moved quickly, positioning herself between Ashley and the exit.

She was a tall woman, and her stance was intimidating.

"You will sit down, or you will have detention for the rest of the semester for defiance and disrupting this class!" Her voice was loud, cutting through the sudden silence of the room.

Ashley swayed. "Please, I really don't feel well."

"I said, sit down!" Ms. Davison's voice rose another notch. "Do not test me, young lady."

Tears welled in Ashley's eyes, from pain and frustration. She felt trapped.

From the corner of her eye, through the classroom door window, Ashley saw Mr. Henderson, the elderly school janitor, pushing his cart down the hallway.

He paused for a fraction of a second, his kind eyes meeting hers, a flicker of something – concern? pity? – before he continued on his way.

It was a tiny, fleeting connection, but it registered. Someone else had seen.

But he couldn't help her now. Ms. Davison was a wall of unyielding authority.

Ashley leaned against a desk for support, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

The thought of detention was nothing compared to the agony she was in.