1/26/2025 0 Comments Chapter 2The hallway outside her closed door began to buzz with activity at 12:50. Doors opened and closed, female voices shouting greets echoed against the concrete. One voice came louder and more clearly than the others. “Just a sec’ — I need to grab my books.” The lock on the door clicked, and the girl from the pictures on the other side of the room came in.
Becca jumped to her feet. “Ana?” “Oh!” The girl paused only a moment before rushing forward with one hand outstretched. “You must be Rebecca. Mrs. F said you’d be coming today.” Becca shook her hand. “It’s Becca.”
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1/6/2025 0 Comments Chapter 1Becca struggled against the urge to squirm. The folding metal chair hadn’t been uncomfortable when she first sat down, but that had been over an hour ago, and now the unforgiving metal was starting to bruise the bottom of her spine. But if Aunt Tonya could sit still through yet another round of transcripts and waivers, permission slips and class schedules, Becca supposed she could, too. She adjusted her position as subtly as she could and tried to concentrate instead on what the woman behind the desk was saying.
“We’ve all been excited to welcome Rebecca into our family,” the woman said as Aunt Tonya pushed over another stack of signed papers. The woman had introduced herself as Selma Fitzgerald, or Mrs. F, on their arrival with a firm handshake and a warm smile that had yet to fade. She took the papers and set them neatly into an ever-growing file folder that had Becca’s full name written in Sharpie on the tab. What kind of place kept paper records anymore? Becca had been sitting in this small office and hard folding chair for almost an hour, and she hadn’t seen any normal office electronics — no computer or phone, no radio or even a lightbulb: all the light in the room came from the two south-facing windows and the reflection of sunlight on three-day-old snow. If it weren’t for Mrs. F’s red-and-green sweater and the heat pumping through the ceiling vents, Becca would’ve sworn they’d been thrown back a hundred years into the past. Mrs. F ruffled through the paper she’d collected in Becca’s folder, then closed it and sat back in her chair with a satisfied smile. “Excellent. Everything is in order, and Rebecca can—” “Call me Becca,” Becca interrupted. “Becca,” Mrs. F corrected herself easily, “you can start class this afternoon. I’ve already told the staff that you’ll be coming.” She passed Becca a large manila envelope stuffed full of even more papers. “Get the teachers this afternoon to sign off on these and bring them back here this afternoon, and we’ll get you all set up.” |
AuthorI'm M. B. Robbins. I write YA/NA fantasy, with a particular love for fairy tale retellings. You can check out my books here. ArchivesCategories |
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