The Misdelivered Secret Between Arthur and the Girl Next Door

“Hey!” I shouted through the screen door.

He didn’t turn around.

Of course he didn’t.

Nobody turned around anymore.

Nobody listened.

Nobody checked labels.

Nobody took responsibility.

I stood there in my slippers, one hand gripping my cane, staring at the giant cardboard box sitting crooked on my porch mat.

It said:

KAYLA MORRIS
214B HAWTHORNE LANE

I lived at continue reading …