In an instant, Hanna smoothed every sign of emotion out of her face. She walked to her desk and sat down meekly—even though she was feeling the exact opposite of meek.

She had learned at an early age to act one way while feeling another by watching Mama. Hanna had seen her mother in every kind of mood. In moments of anger or scorn or disappointment, Mama’s face suddenly became a complete blank. No one else, not even Papa, could have guessed what Mama was thinking or feeling.

Except for Hanna. She and Mama had never spoken about it, but Hanna had somehow absorbed the knowledge that there were times when it was useful—crucial—to hide her thoughts.

Now her mind was in a jumble. She was dismayed by Miss Walters’s admonition. At the same time, she was aware that it was unfair of her to expect anything different; Miss Walters had not heard her side of the story. Above all, she was alarmed . . . because of what the episode might mean about her classmates.

She did not want anyone to sense that alarm. It was a weakness that they could use against her.

Maybe it was an accident.

A bitter taste filled her mouth. She was angry at herself for thinking it, for having been put in the position of actually hoping someone had accidentally thrown her paper away.

She knew it was no accident because Sam had said something about “they.”

And because as the other students returned, they brought that cold fog of ill will into the room again.

It took all Hanna’s strength to apply herself to the afternoon grammar lesson. She and her classmates were standing at the front of the room, inverting the subjunctive in response to Miss Walters’s prompts.

“If we had gone to the store, we would have seen her there.”

“Had we gone to the store, we would have seen her there.”

After each student had inverted three sentences, Miss Walters asked a final question.

“Who can invert the following? If I were you, I would choose a different color.”

Hanna lowered her gaze, not wanting the teacher to call on her. The less attention drawn to her, the better. None of the other students volunteered, and the silence lengthened into awkwardness.

“Hanna.”

She looked up to see Miss Walters raising her eyebrows expectantly.

Hanna cleared her throat a little before answering. “Were I you, I would choose a different color.”

“Well done, Hanna.”

The students were stirring in surprise. Hanna cast a sidelong glance at the other girls just in time to see Dolly roll her eyes in disgust.

Edith raised her hand.

“Yes, Edith?” Miss Walters said.

“‘Were I you’? Miss, that sounds so odd!” Edith exclaimed.