Chapter 15When I get home from school, I run to my room and yank open the drawer, then flip open my notebook. The letter's gone. The numbness from earlier starts again, this time filling my chest, my arms, my legs. I search the rest of the drawer, the one below that. The floor, my books, binders, pockets, even though I know it can't be in there. When I go back through the kitchen, no one"s there. The patio"s dark when I shift through the door, closing it after me. I cross to the edge of the pool, staring into the shimmering water. The low buzz of the filter fills my ears with white noise. Jessy didn"t just take my poem—she took my letter. I tug off one sock, then the other. She gave it to Carla. I take the steps one at a time, the water lapping at my toes, then my calves. Then my thighs, s
