Chapter 2: The Interrogation

“That was very brave of you,” a girl about Abby’s age said, sliding into the seat beside her.

“Oh, it was nothing,” Abby replied, trying to sound calm.

“Are you kidding?” the girl exclaimed. “That was John! He’s the toughest boy in school. I got this from him last year.” She rolled up her sleeve, revealing a nasty scar. “He pushed me off the swing.”

Abby winced. “That must’ve hurt—especially when you had to clean it.”

“Yeah,” the girl agreed, pulling down her sleeve. “You better watch out. John won’t rest until he ‘deals with you.’ He won’t let a girl smaller than him ruin his reputation.”

The bus pulled to a stop, and kids poured out. The girl hopped out too, and Abby followed her.

“What’s your name?” Abby asked.

“Sophia. But everyone calls me Sophie.”

“I’m Abby,” she replied. “Have you been to this school before?”

“Yeah,” Sophie said. “I was here last year. I’m glad not much has changed—except my grade, of course.”

The two girls walked into the building hand in hand, hoping they would be in the same class. They were in luck—they both had Mr. Armstrong.

Abby liked him right away. He was a cheerful, jolly man with a strong British accent that made everything sound friendly.

“Welcome to third grade, everyone!” Mr. Armstrong boomed. “You may call me Mr. Arm. And I promise, you won’t regret being in this class. Now, let’s get to know each other!”

He passed out name tags and then stood at the edge of his desk. One by one, he called the students to introduce themselves.

The last thing Abby wanted was to stand in front of the class, but unfortunately, she was called first.

She stood there nervously, her palms sweating, and took a deep breath. “Hi. My name is Abby. I’m nine years old. I like to play sports—especially soccer. I also take taekwondo. My favorite color is green. And… this is my first time in school. I’ve been homeschooled all my life.”

There was a moment of silence before a few kids clapped. Sophie gave her a big, encouraging smile.

“You did great,” she whispered as Abby sat back down.

The rest of the day rolled on. Abby enjoyed language arts and music, but when it came time for math, her mind wandered.

“Today we’re going to multiply two-digit numbers by two-digit numbers!” Mr. Arm announced with way too much excitement.

Abby sighed. He was trying so hard to be cheerful, but he wasn’t her mom. When Mrs. Perce taught math, they used cookies for fractions and made skip-counting into a race. Here, it was just numbers on a board and a teacher who smiled too much.

She tried not to yawn, but the clock seemed to slow down just to torture her. She wouldn’t be surprised if she looked up and found herself ninety years old.