““Morning, Calla!” Startled to hear a voice as she slips out her grandmother’s front door with her backpack, Calla spins around to see her father over on Ramona’s porch. “Dad!” “That was some storm last night, huh?” She nods. “When did the power come back on?” “Around midnight.” “Oh.”By that time, she had eaten herself into Coffee Heath Bar Crunch–induced oblivion, too zonked out to even dream. Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, she turns and spots a translucent little boy perched in ...a tree beside Ramona’s porch. He’s wearing a 1930s-style newsboy hat and knickers, and she’s pretty sure she’s seen him hanging around before. “Are you wearing that to school?” She looks down at her jeans, long sleeved T-shirt, and sneakers. “Um . . . yes?” “Really.” “It’s a public school, Dad,”she reminds him. As opposed to a private school: at Shoreside Day back in Florida, she had to wear a preppy uniform every day. “So everyone dresses down for school?MoreLessRead More Read Less
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