I’m making it about tomorrow night.”
I turned toward my car.
Behind me, Nadine said, “When you understand why she cut it, you’re going to wish you had been paying closer attention.”
I spun around.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
But she had already opened her door.
“Six o’clock, Marla.”
The next afternoon, I came home earlier than usual.
Tessa and Nadine were already leaving for school.
Tessa had replaced the sweatshirt with a knitted beanie pulled low over her ears.
I nearly called after her.
Then I noticedher backpack sitting beside the stairs.
“Tessa forgot her bag,” I muttered.
I picked it up, meaning to drive it over.
The zipper wasn’t completely closed, and when I lifted it, several notebooks shifted.
Something crumpled fell onto the floor.
A piece of lined paper.
I should have left it alone.
I know that now.
