Silence lingered for a second.
“Lily left something in her locker. We didn’t know about it until today. It has your name on it.”
I barely remember grabbing my keys, locking the apartment, or driving there.
The school felt painfully wrong without my daughter in it.
The hallway sat silent and empty except for Ms. Holloway and the school counselor, Mr. Bennett, standing beside the lockers. Both looked like they’d been crying. My footsteps echoed too loudly against the tile floor.
Voir la suite sur la page suivante:
