Taking her cue, I added, “I had some Halloween treats for ya. Maybe I should have saved some.” “I was in the dorms. I didn’t feel like celebrating Halloween.” At least it wasn’t personal. “Got it.” I grabbed my cart, rolling it out into the hall. “You still don’t want me to talk to Mr. Mills?” “What good is that gonna do? He can’t take me out of that class,” she said, a little finality in her voice. She was wrong, but it was going to take some time for me to work my magic with Frank Mills. In the meantime, I had to humor her. November played out, with nary a peep from staff. Over the Thanksgiving Day holiday, she went home, along with a good third of the student body. But when she got back, she was standoffish with staff, and seemed to avoid me altogether. Bill briefed me on the particulars. “You might want to give her a little space.
