The Misdelivered Secret Between Arthur and the Girl Next Door

Kayla flinched like I had dropped a plate.

Then her face hardened.

“My generation?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Whitaker, I’m trying very hard to be respectful right now.”

“Are you?”

“Yes,” she said, voice thin. “Because I need that box.”

“For what?” I asked. “Some video? Some little pretend baking segment where you hold up a cupcake and ask strangers to like and follow?continue reading …