Francesca with flowers

"Francesca, you cannot leave detention!"
He whispered sharply, her name and the word 'detention' being the most enounciated.
She stopped and looked at him as if she were awfully bored by what he was saying.
"I will not waste my time in detention, I need to go on the river!" She answered and started to climb on the window sill.
"No, don't,"
She ignored his protests and stood up to open the window, her eyes shining with excitement.
"Francesca...you can't open it, it's useless...it's too tough...you'll break it..."
His assumption was correct, it was likely not opened or closed for several years, and so opening the window proved to be rather difficult indeed, but after a few seconds, she managed.
The ground was maybe two meters below her feet, not much more, but certainly not much less. If she jumped, she would not get hurt, but would not be able to climb back up, she was aware of that.
She sat down and prepared herself to jump.
"Francesca Forster, do. Not. Jump!!" He forgot to whisper for a moment.
She looked at him fiercely: "Henry Bewell...I'm gonna!!"
And without hesitation, she did.