The Girl Who Was Supposed To Die - Plot & Excerpts
Yesterday morning, I had just gotten off the city bus outside of Wilson High when I reached in my jacket pocket for my phone and found only my house key. Crap! My phone was still on the charger on my desk. I hesitated. Should I go back for it and miss first period? Or stay and not have a phone all day? My first class was Honors French. Madame Aimée seldom took roll, so even if I didn’t show up, there was a good chance it wouldn’t be reported. And these days, my mom was so anxious. She wanted to know where I was at all times. She’d freak out if she looked at the tracker on my phone and saw I was still at home but wasn’t answering my phone. I crossed the street and waited for the next bus that would take me back. By the time I put my key in the lock a half hour later, my mind was somewhere else. Although my parents had warned me, I wasn’t looking for signs that things were terribly wrong. Mentally, I was already back at school, wondering if it would be worthwhile to go to French for just ten minutes.
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