Cracked to Death by Cheryl Hollon

after Edward’s departure when she heard the bell on the front door ring, followed by Amanda’s voice calling out, “Savannah? I’m here. Nothing to worry about. I’m here.”
    Walking into the classroom, Savannah felt her heart sink when she got a look at Amanda. “What’s wrong? Has your mother taken a turn for the worse?”
    Amanda’s eyes were puffy and red rimmed. Although her outfit was wildly eclectic, it was clear to Savannah that the effect had not been achieved by Amanda’s usual meticulous planning but more by donning the first things she had laid her hands on this morning.
    Clasping Amanda by the shoulders, she said, “What’s wrong? Is it your mom? Has she had a relapse with the pneumonia?”
    â€œI’m sorry.” Reaching into her enormous patchwork hobo purse, Amanda found a tissue and blew a loud trumpet and snuffled a sob. “Mom’s not breathing well. They’re watching her closely, and they’ll call if she gets worse. I’ll be all right. Just give me a few minutes to get my head clear.” She trudged on into the office and ducked into the bathroom.
    Shaking her head, Savannah stood behind the instructor’s podium and opened the lesson plan to “Day 3” and reviewed the teaching points. It was possible that Amanda wasn’t capable emotionally of teaching. Perhaps it was too much to ask.
    It must be her mother. Although she’s been dealing with those issues for the past few months. It might be something else. Maybe she’s unnerved by Martin’s death.
    Amanda emerged from the office with more color in her face and a freshly applied bold streak of color on her generous lips. “Sorry. I’m trying to cope with my mother’s progressing dementia. Occasionally, it hits hard. Yesterday was a particularly bad visit.”
    Savannah nodded. “I’m sorry. Didn’t she remember you? That must hurt.”
    â€œNo. Actually, it was quite the opposite. It was one of those days where she thinks clearly and knows exactly where she is and why.” Amanda took a sobbing breath and put a hand on her chest. “She wanted me to pack up her things and take her back home immediately.”
    â€œI’m so sorry.” Savannah tucked Amanda into her arms and held her until the shuddering stopped. “You must feel so helpless.”
    Amanda moved back and reached into her bag for another tissue. “Thanks. That’s the frustrating part. When she’s truly herself, I can’t enjoy it, because of her awareness of her present circumstances. When she thinks she’s away on a vacation trip, she’s not herself.” She blew her nose. “Thanks for understanding.”
    Amanda looked down at the open lesson plan. “Did you think I might not be able to teach today’s class?”
    Savannah waved a hand at the notebook. “I was reviewing today’s lesson, just in case.”
    Throwing her shoulders back to stand straight, Amanda cleared her throat and said, “I’ve already studied the lesson. It’s called ‘Glass Menagerie,’ for the animals we’re going to make out of bottle pieces. I’m good.” She looked at Savannah with a steely glint in her eye. “I’ve got this.”
    â€œOkay, but I have to tell you something. I’ve got some bad news.” Savannah put her hand on Amanda’s shoulder.
    â€œWhat is it? Is it about Martin?” Her voice lifted into a shrill squeak.
    â€œYes. You remember that Detective Parker brought a broken bottle over for me to help identify? After I reconstructed it, I thought it was a match with the ones Martin brought into class on Monday.”
    Savannah saw Amanda’s whole body stiffen.
    â€œI’m afraid the unidentified diver the police found yesterday was Martin.”
    Amanda turned to Savannah and whispered, “I was expecting it.”
    Savannah crinkled her