She will fetch her clothes

Abigail rushes through the hallways. Her eyes are blurred with tears, and she can't seem to catch her breath. She finds Mr. Howards' office, the one place she thought she could find refuge, only to find it locked. Panic sets in as she realizes she can't retrieve her clothes. She's trapped in this nightmare, a living exhibit of humiliation. She leans against the cool wood, her shoulders heaving with sobs. The thought of facing the crowded halls again, her nakedness on display for all to see, is unbearable. She slumps to the floor, her body shaking with the **** of her crying. The fabric of her dignity is in tatters, and she feels like she's lost a piece of herself she'll never get back. She wraps her arms around her knees, her skin sticky. The whispers and laughter of her classmates haunt her like a taunting ghost, and she knows that this isn't the end of her ordeal. She can't go back to class, not like this. But where can she go? What can she do? The spark of defiance from earlier is now a flickering ember, struggling to stay alight in the face of this new, crushing defeat.