No one had answered the last four times. But this time she did answer. Mable opened the door, the smug, angry look absent from her face. Instead she almost looked nice. “You’re Dasia?” “Yeah, I, uh, I saw you left your tablet...
Her fingers slid across the screen of her tablet, searching for Dr. Perkins’s native-species catalogue. Photosynthetic producers. Photosynthetic first-level consumers. Primary herbivores. Mable had not...