Sister Mary Clarence pounded on the dorm door once more. “Chelsea Childling, open your door!”
Chelsea stared at the cheap, pressed particle board, wondering if the nun had the strength to knock it down. When Mary Clarence started pounding again, Chelsea sighed. She’d known this confrontation was inevitable. She’d just planned on the inevitable being much later. And maybe over the phone, long after she’s moved out of the dorm and quit school.