There was a note plastered on the door before I left for school today. It was smaller than the palm of my hand and thicker than regular paper. On the top was a Nightingale stamp.
This is a notice sent by the Nightingale Evacuation & Runaway Agents concerning our visit to your address. We have exceeded over three visits and require your cooperation in inspection. This notice will appear again if we find an empty house. Action will be taken if you do not cooperate.
Three visits? The agents came to my house three times, and I didn’t even know. It technically wasn’t my fault because I had a busy life, too.
“We’re not waiting all day for you!” Ally called from the car. I put the notice inside and joined them. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” I said. Neither was she nor Arian convinced. Either wa
