clipboard jesus

CHAPTER NINE


APRIL

The next week’s Friday morning, Alaina is dragging her feet as she picks something to wear. “Honey, we need to hurry,” I call out, slipping into my flats.

“I can’t find my shirt!” she shouts back.

I hurry down the hallway and peek my head into her room. “What?”

“My softest shirt!” she says, and I see clothes being thrown out of her closet at a rapid speed.

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