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.I managed to play the part of the perfect, untroubled daughter over dinner—fortunately, my mom brought home Fat Sal’s pizza when she returned from her secretarial job, so we didn’t have to eat whatever maniacal creation my dad had made.I’m pretty sure it screamed when he threw it in the trash—and I told him so over dinner, which made my mom laugh and my dad pretend to pout before laughing along with us.Paige is making jokes, look at our funny, witty, un-crazy daughter.My dad even mentioned he was considering taking my mom to the play on Saturday instead of me, which would leave me with a rare, unsupervised night at home.I went to bed with a blissful smile on my face, my head filled with the possibilities of being home the day after tomorrow, alone and unsupervised, for the first time in nearly three years.I could dig out my old art books and sketch or paint.At Therapist Number Three’s orders, my parents had confiscated my artwork as if it were evidence in a criminal case.They’d inspected it for telltale clues of what was making me insane.I guess they were looking for grisly illustrations of car accidents and bloody murder scenes.Instead, they just found a bunch of pencil portraits and detailed sketches of old buildings around the city that I thought looked cool.The only thing killed was my desire to continue painting or drawing.But this coming Saturday, I could sketch for hours, uninterrupted, without anyone checking on me or looking at my drawings to make sure I wasn’t creating some macabre scene.Or I could watch TV in my pajamas.Win-win, if you ask me.It snowed overnight, dusting the streets and sidewalks with a fine, slippery coat, and my walk to school took longer than usual, so I didn’t have the chance to rehash things with Dottie first thing in the morning.My first class was gym, and I barely had time to stash my jewelry in my locker and change into my shorts and T-shirt before the first bell.I didn’t wear piles of jewelry, but we weren’t allowed to wear any during gym.It made Fridays living hell for Tabitha Nakamura, a junior with about ten piercings in each ear.Aside from a couple of studs in each ear, the only jewelry I wore on Fridays were a ring and the platinum filigree bracelet given to me by Melody, the mother of the kid I saved.It had belonged to Mel’s great-grandmother, passed down through generations in their family.I’d insisted that Melody didn’t owe me anything, but my mom said it was important to her to give me something.She didn’t understand how Dylan had ended up in the street.He hadn’t even remembered how he got there.But Dylan was a rambunctious kid, and it had been Melody’s greatest fear that he’d run off into the street and get hurt.She’d insisted that she was holding his hand tightly one second—and then he was in the middle of the intersection at Tenth Avenue and Forty-Ninth Street the next, terrified and frozen in place as a car made a very wide, very dangerous turn from the far lane, nearly hitting the four-year-old.I had been walking home from a friend’s house, saw what was about to happen, and shoved Dylan out of the way.The driver had slammed on the brakes and swerved, missing Dylan and ramming right into me.Fortunately for me, we hadn’t been far from a hospital.Melody had begged me to accept the bracelet, and finally I did, mostly to make her feel better.Now, I probably couldn’t get through a day without it.I wore it every day as a reminder: when someone called me a loser, I could touch the bracelet and remember that there were a few people who were glad I was around.And after gym class, it was gone.I knew I’d locked my locker.And I knew I’d left it on the top shelf, right next to my earrings.But now, the space was empty.I pulled everything out, flipped through textbooks and even checked the sleeves of my coat, but I knew I wouldn’t find it.I always put it in the same spot, and it was gone.I stared at the empty dark green metal shelf, willing the bracelet to appear.“I guess she lost something—other than her mind, I mean,” Andie Ward sniped from across the locker room, earning a few quiet snickers in reply.I shut my eyes and took a deep breath.“I can’t find my bracelet,” I said before turning around to face the locker room.“Has anyone seen it? It’s a platinum bracelet, with a lacy, scrolled design.Anyone?”Silence.“Is she talking to us?” Andie stage-whispered, and the laughter this time wasn’t as muted.“Yes, Andie, I am talking to you,” I said, making an effort to keep my voice steady.“To everyone, actually.I had my bracelet in my locker.Now, it’s gone.Please.Has anyone seen it?”A few girls offered muttered “Sorry’s” and “No, I haven’t seen it.” Tabitha even offered to help me look, and we fell to our knees and peered under the lockers, seeing nothing but dust and—oh, gross—mouse traps.“Sorry, Paige.I hope you find it,” Tabitha said, twisting her last earring in place before grabbing her bag.“I gotta get to class
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