Macallister's Baby
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ELISABETH paused, listening, her knuckles hovering over the surface of the food technology classroom door.
Inside it was completely silent.
She checked her watch: ten-thirteen, midway through period three. She’d passed by here last week during her free period and it had been far from silent—downright noisy, in fact.
The silence disturbed Elisabeth more than any screams would have done. In theory, a silent classroom was A Good Thing. In real life, a silent classroom meant that the students inside were absorbed in something besides cooking.
Which was A Very Bad Thing. ‘Please let there not be any blood or fire,’ she muttered. She shoved the stack of reports she’d brought for Tasha Cutter to sign underneath her arm, leaned forward, and listened.
She heard the rustle and cough of children. The sound of a chair being scraped back. And softly, just at the limit of her hearing, a cluck.
A cluck?
Okay, this was weird. ... read full excerpt from: MacAllister's Baby ebook
