Doubt

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With a tired smile, Scarlet tenderly closes the book in her hands, the satisfying thud echoing through the classroom as she concludes the tale. Taking a moment, she perched herself partially on the edge of her desk, her gaze sweeping over the diverse array of faces that stare back at her.

The classroom, once vibrant and bustling with the energy of twenty eager young minds, now sits nearly empty. Rows of desks, once tightly packed with students, lay half empty, bearing the ghostly traces of those who had once occupied them.

Only six children remain, scattered across the room, their expressions a mixture of confusion and sadness, brought about by the unexpected ending of the story and the lackluster performance Miss Moore had put into reading it for the class. The atmosphere in the room is heavy with disappointment as the children wait for their teacher to speak again.

Clearing her throat, Scarlet addresses her young audience, her voice rough and exhausted. "So, my lovely students," she begins, her green eyes lacking the once-permanent twinkle of dedication, "today's lesson has come to an end."

"As your homework for tonight," she continues, "I want each of you to take a moment to reflect on the story's ending. I'm curious to hear your thoughts and feelings about it."

Seeing no hands shoot up, indicating that there are no further questions or thoughts to share with the class, Scarlet glances at the classroom clock. It shows that there are five more minutes until the lesson is officially over, but the young teacher has no idea how to fill them with anything productive.

"You can leave a little earlier today," Scarlet tells her students, settling down at her desk. A weak chorus of chatter erupts among the children in the room. They swiftly begin to pack up their belongings, the room filling with the sounds of zippers zipping and notebooks sliding into backpacks. Some exchange quick words as they prepare to head home for the day.

Scarlet follows suit, neatly arranging her belongings on her desk. As she finishes packing her beg, she throws it over her shoulder exiting her classroom shortly after her students.

"Miss Morre?" Mrs. Anderson, a fellow teacher, stands at the end of the corridor, walking towards Scarlet, her expression a mixture of confusion and worry as to why her lesson is already over. The older woman, her hair adorned with glistening silver strands, doesn't voice her concerns but hides them behind a warm and welcoming smile.

"Mrs. Anderson," Scarlet greets the fellow teacher with a weak smile. "How can I help you?"

"Did you hear the news?" the older woman beams, coming to a stop in front of Scarlet, looking very excited to share the latest gossip. "The pirates will finally leave!" she whispers excitedly, expecting her colleague to share her enthusiasm. However, Scarlet could only muster a weak smile to mask the pain that surged through her chest at the reminder of Buggy's impending departure.

"Yes," she confirms, her voice subdued. "I've heard."

Anderson shoots her a worried look and reaches out, placing her warm wrinkled hand on the young teacher's arm. "What's wrong? Aren't you happy?"

Scarlet shakes her head gently. "No, no, I am," she assures her. "I'm just tired. The past few days have been quite exhausting, and I think I need a small break to get back on my feet."

Anderson nods understandingly. "I see. The whole village noticed how Captain Buggy hogged all your time, causing trouble for all of us." Scarlet swallows hard, exhaling a soft "yes" to confirm the statement before allowing Mrs. Anderson to continue speaking. "Don't worry, Miss Moore. Tomorrow, everything will be back to normal."

As the conversation comes to an end, Scarlet exchanges a few more polite smiles with Mrs. Anderson, all the while concealing the melancholy that weighs on her heart. She can't help but think of Buggy and the impending departure of the pirate crew.

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