drove straight to Sophie’s school.
At the front desk, I asked for Dolly.
The receptionist told me she was finishing her shift nearby.
So I waited.
Five minutes later, a woman in her thirties came through the double doors pushing a cleaning cart.
The moment she saw me, she stopped.
Her eyes immediately dropped to the sweater folded across my arm.
“You must be Emelia.”
I didn’t like that she already knew my name.
“You gave this to Sophie. My granddaughter.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Dolly glanced toward the office staff.
“Could
