CHAPTER 28ROCHELLE
December 23, 2090
I stopped writing and stretched my hand, glancing across the table at Keppler, who continued writing without looking up. Emma sat at the end of the table, pen in hand as she graded essays. Everyone else had finished the literature final a half hour earlier, but Keppler and I had continued our tight race to write the best and most detailed essays to finish the semester.
Flipping through the four pages in front of me, I decided I couldn’t analyze another word from the two poems we’d been provided. Rereading my last paragraph, I added a closing sentence, stood without scraping my chair on the floor, and tiptoed to the end of the table.
Emma looked up from the paper she was grading and smiled. I handed her my four pages, and she tipped her head in the d
