“Steve said as he walked alongside Glinda and me as we headed to bunkhouse number ten. It turned out that he was the instructor for the pottery class George had been prepping. When Steve found out why Glinda and I were there, he volunteered to accompany us to the bunkhouse. I suspected it had nothing to do with escorting us and everything to do with wanting to get a peek at Miles’ belongings, as though he was hoping to find a stash of contraband clay that he could reclaim. Steve went on.... “If he did steal it, he’s lucky I didn’t catch him. I’d have—” His unfinished sentence hung in the air between us, and Glinda and I left it right where it was. The theft of his magical clay was just one more reason for Steve to despise Miles. He’d already hated him for stealing Penelope away. The wind kicked up as we crossed an expanse of wet grass. Glinda seemed to know where she was going, which was good, because to me it didn’t seem as though any of these buildings were marked.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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