“If only Dad hadn’t come onto the veranda looking for me. I couldn’t sleep at all last night thinking about Tara. Why was she running away? I concocted all sorts of stories about her, but only one made sense: she had a cruel stepmother. This would explain why she had no bathing suit and no extra clothes. The stepmother wouldn’t buy her any, of course; she bought stuff only for her own daughters. I simmered in my bed, thinking about poor Tara, doing all the work and being treated like a servant. ...No wonder she ran away. I gobbled down my pancakes this morning and made lots of noise during my inspections, but Tara didn’t show up. I daydreamed through all my chores, through my babysitting job, and all the way through supper. I ate everything on my plate, including the onions, and cleared the table. “I’m going to sit on the veranda,” I call out. Dad flicked me with a dish towel. “Don’t stay out so late tonight, okay?” But it’s not Tara I find outside; it’s Chase. He’s sitting on the concrete pad, his feet stirring in the water.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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