A little something from the new project-o-mystery:
Ms. May leaned in, resting her elbows on her knees. “I am a very private woman, Megan—a quality it seems you should appreciate. I need to know that information about my life will not be traded on the black market for food or luxuries. So, let me ask you again: can you speak?”
I grabbed the paper, my heart pounding, and wrote in big letters: I will keep your secrets.
“Truth,” Constance pronounced.
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