I stared out my bedroom window the next morning, not ready to leave the safety of my own bed. Thankfully, Leroy, the stuffed penguin, didn't judge me too harshly as he lay staring up at me from the pillow beside my head.
I knew I couldn't stay in bed too much longer, but I wasn't going to hurry out of it either. My parents were probably still sleeping off their hangovers from their usual Christmas overindulgence. So they wouldn't notice my absence at the breakfast table anyway. No more than they noticed my entry last night when Molly dropped me off at the front door.
Molly had tried the entire ride over to get me to talk to her about what had happened with Mr. Jones. But, I had continued to insist nothing had happened, and I was fine. I knew better than to think she believed me and
