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... ast no one here would stuff dead rats into my locker because of my unique identity.
“Hey! Selma! There’s a rehearsal at the opera club today. We’re going to help out. Do you want to come?”
“I saw the poster on the noticeboard. You’re going to perform ‘the Butterfly Lady’?” I smiled and held their hands. “But it’s a pity that I can’t go. I have to go for training after school. You know that.”
Mara pouted in frustration and shook my arm like a spoiled child. “Didn’t you say ...
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