n sent a fresh wave of nausea through me. My ac

y aching. The clatter and roar of a factory floor filled the air. My parents had pulled me out of

ronie had declared. "You need to c

ath a loose floorboard. Then, I got sick. A bout of pneumonia

urst into the factory. Don grabbed my arm.

eyes widened with a terrifying greed. "You've

again. Fronie stomped on a pile of my precious books, tearing the page

ease!"

us sketches, and tore them into confetti.