Chapter Eight‘So, Alex. What would you like to discuss today?’ Mrs Moss adjusts her notepad and pen and looks at me expectantly. The ‘talking to someone’ arrangement happened much quicker than I’d anticipated; it has been less than a week from speaking to Mrs Lee and I’m sat in Mrs Moss’ office, at the end of the corridor in the West Wing.
‘I’d like to talk about my sister. I suppose.’ I shift awkwardly in my seat, not sure whether that’s the right answer. Anyway, I bet she’s one of those teachers that doesn’t think there’s a right or wrong answer. Mrs Moss is quite young, with a neatly-cut fringe and pretty eyes. She seems kind and patient, the type of person I could talk to. If I wanted to talk. Which I’m not sure I do.
‘Okay. Your sister, Jenna. She’s…’ She briefly flicks through her
