Cynthia Dion:
Once we got back home, I reunited with my overly concerned husband. The guards must've informed him about what they witnessed when I left school to sit in Atticus' car. Mr. Holt was already standing in the parking lot, eagerly awaiting my return.
"Cynthia! What happened to you, my lovely wife?" Mr. Holt's voice seemed rather contrived. He hurried over, calling my name, and gently held my arms and face in his hands. Mr. Holt and I chatted as Atticus stood beside us, observing.
"Eh! I'm okay," I mumbled, but when I tried to free myself from his grasp, he just tightened his hold on my cheeks.
"What happened to her?" Mr. Holt asked Atticus this time, as if he were some kind of security guard assigned to protect me.
"Did someone bully her?" Mr. Holt bombarded Atticus with al
