ELENA PETERS
I got into my car and sped off, heading to Vince’s house.
My hands gripped the steering tightly, gritting my teeth in rage and another intense, unsettling feeling.
The news had left me with no appetite, and so I didn't join my parents for breakfast.
I was way too jittery by how fast the news was spreading, and my parents stayed beside me. They only left me alone hours after midday, and that was when I got out of the house, needing to speak with Vince.
I do appreciate their care. But I knew exactly where the whole issue came from. And I needed to confront it.
Sympathizing with me wouldn’t remove the anger and shame I felt from the broadcast about me. It wouldn't get rid of the anger in the hearts of the people either. I needed to sort it out. Get to the bottom of it. Wi
