The second thing I did was look up Becca Walters’s class schedule. She had geometry first period. Excellent. Now all I had to do was hope she showed up to school. “That’s a waste,” Sister Ernestine remarked as she bustled past my trash can on the way into her office. I glanced at the flowers. The nun had a point. Every petal was still snow white and perfect. “The smell’s giving me a headache,” I said, though of course my headache had predated the flowers and this didn’t explain why they were in the garbage, one foot from my desk. “If you didn’t want them, you could have given them to poor Father Dominic at the hospital.” “I think we can do better for Father D than used flowers.” “They’re still perfectly good. Maybe you could put them in the basilica for the worshippers to enjoy.” I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer for strength to the nondenominational god of single girls and mediators.
What do You think about Remembrance (The Mediator #7)?
