Lucy did not move, but instead stared straight forward, her eyes focused on the desk where the presiding teacher on duty was supposed to be. He grabbed her wrist and prised the weapon from her fingers, ignoring her other hand that clawed at his to try to retain the trophy. And then suddenly—a relief. "You're not out yet, you young hound," rejoined Quilt, striving ineffectually to burst open the door. The area was sparsely populated.
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