He sat alone at the far edge of the dining hall, his food uneaten in front of him.
The room was unbelievably loud, roaring with the sounds of his classmates
and all their screaming and yelling and fighting and laughing. Conor did his best to ignore it.
The monster would heal her. Of course it would. Why else would it have come?
There was no other explanation. It had come walking as a tree of healing,
the same tree that made the medicine for his mother, so why else?
Please, Conor thought as he stared at his still full lunch tray. Please.
Two hands slapped down hard on either side of the tray from across the table,
knocking Conor’s orange juice into his lap.
Conor stood up, though not quickly enough. His trousers were soaked in liquid, dripping down his legs.
“O’Malley’s wet himself!” Sully was already shouting, with Anton cracking up beside him.
“Here!” Anton said, flicking some of the puddle from the table at Conor. “You missed some!”
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