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M. J. Padgett

I Read It All Wrong

The snow that had melted during the day froze solid by midnight, and my father wouldn’t hear any of Hope and Mark’s arguments that they could get home safely. Hope spending the night at our house was nothing new, she did it all the time. Mark, however, had not, and it made me freak out a little on the inside. I’m not sure why. There was no way our father was letting him anywhere near Sophia’s and my bedrooms during the night, and he had seen me in my comfy pajamas more than once with his early morning arrivals for school. I suppose it was just the thought of him being there as soon as I woke up, ready to start another day of fun.

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