• Penelope •
The hot California breeze hit my face as I contemplated my next move. Maybe I should’ve taken Miguel up on his offer and let him drive me back to the convent. But the last thing I needed was more whispering. Especially after the last blow-up with one of the Sisters.
That woman had eyes like a hawk and a mouth like a stupid megaphone.
I adjusted the shopping bags in my arms, watching Miguel’s car shrink in the distance. He didn’t look back.
Of course he didn’t.
I sighed and turned toward the bus stop, but then paused.
It had been six months since I joined the training, and two years since the accident. Two years of therapy, all kinds of therapy.
Maybe I deserved one evening of fun.
I scrolled through my phone, my fingers hesitating over names I hadn’t called in foreve
