“Thank you, Gretal,” she said when I
had finished. She gave my shoulder a little
squeeze—a squeeze that made my blood cur-
dle and all the color drain from my face. “I
think you’ll enjoy Granite Falls High School,”
she purred in my ear.
I clumsilymademywaybacktomyseat
clutchingmyshoulder,awareofasensationthat
felt likefiveneedleshadjustpiercedmyskin.
FortheremainderoftheclassIkeptmy
eyes down on my textbook. But somehow, I
knew she was always watching me.YIKES! SHE SHOULD GO BACK
TO WISCONSIN!