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Don’t ever yell at me. I don’t yell, so talk to me in a regular voice.
Margaret Aranda
Astrid had gone to look at the burn zone. Doing the right thing.Kids had yelled at her. Demanded to know why she had let it happen. Demanded to know where Sam was. Deluged her with complaints and worries and crazy theories until she had retreated.She’d hidden out after that. She’d refused to answer the door when kids knocked. She had not gone to her office. It would be the same there.But through the day it had eaten at her. This feeling of uselessness. A feeling of uselessness made so much worse by the growing realization that she needed Sam. Not because they were up against some threat. The threat was mostly past now.She needed Sam because no one had any respect for her. There was only one person right now who could get a crowd of anxious kids to settle down and do what needed to be done.She had wanted to believe that she could do that. But she had tried. And they hadn’t listened.But Sam was still nowhere to be seen. So despite everything it was still on her shoulders. The thought of it made her sick. It made her want to scream.
Michael Grant
You!' Skeet bellowed.When uttered with just the right tone, this is the universal name for any boy. Accordingly, all heads snapped towards the angry master.
Jonathan Renshaw
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