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Still Safe in Angel’s Hands?
Some girls, about thirteen years old, gathered in a bedroom by one bed, although time to sleep was announced by Miss Blackwood’s yells and screams more than fifteen minutes ago.
The children gathered around Elizabeth's bed. The bed where she would sleep for the first time without Dorothy, her best friend.
The blonde girl, unable to sleep, kept herself busy with a thing she used to do most of the time when she felt restless.
She organized some stuff in that bed. There was a narrow, pinched pot on the bed, its upper part being covered with a canvas that had some small figures cut into it. The bottom of that old and parched pot was completely missing, and on one side it had a bigger crack. At the bottom the pot had a piece of a blurred and broken mirror, with the mirror facing the upper part. There were some more pieces of mirror on the windowsill and on a small almost damaged nightstand. The one on the cold sill faced the dusty window, and the one on the nig
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