"I think I like this new school." I blink and let out the breath I didn't know I was holding in. "No kidding." The school is huge. "Should we go in, Miss?" The driver, obviously unhappy that he's been assigned the task of driving us, is speaking in a clipped pissed-off tone. Maya is looking out the window as the car comes to a stop in front of the school gates, and I can tell she's also impressed. The car windows aren't tinted, instead, they're crystal clear so we can see exactly what the Ironclaw preparatory school looks like. The fences are not normal. I watch as one child, a small male who shouldn't be too older than Maya, breaks out into a run and hits the fence with a leap. His hands and feet find hostage in the crevices constructed into it and almost like this has become routine, he climbs the fence, disappearing off to the other side. He's not the only one doing that. Other young pups are doing this exact same thing and even when they fall, I see them get up and clim
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