“Late Mr. Broomer?” A short man like a young Mr. Roper with a Hitler mustache stood in the center of the room, the kids on a circular riser behind...him.“I have a pass from the office.”“Of course you do ... You missed warmup. But I’m sure you are prepared, perhaps you’d like to go first.“Umnnn”“You are prepared, Broomer?”“Umnnn”“Are you prepared for auditions, do you have your music, or will you be singing a cappella?” Auditions. Perfect.“If I fail them am I kicked out.” The class let out a. Curious, he picked it up. Pregnancy test? What the... ?! He looked up, stunned, before closing his eyes and dropping his head, tears stinging his eyes. Audrey ... were you?! Were we?!His thoughts were interrupted with a soft knock at his door. With an effort, he composed himself, placed the empty box back in her suitcase and closed the lid. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he went and opened the door, surprised to find Dembe standing there, complete with a rather large ornate box."From Mr. More

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