Verge Of Tears
Ava was on the verge of tears, her anxiety palpable in the tense classroom air. Mrs. Parker, her patience evidently worn thin, stood with a stern look that seemed to cut through the room’s usual hum of activity.
Ava’s hair, a subject of contention for reasons she struggled to fully grasp, was once again at the center of the issue. “Ava, I really didn’t want to have to do this, but my hand’s been forced,” Mrs. Parker stated, her voice devoid of the warmth Ava had once found comforting.