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  • Writer's pictureSophie

Day 28

Here's the final part I revised!

The funeral ended as soon as it started, which was surprising considering it was, you know, a funeral. All seven of them walked out the modest door of the chapel filled with nothing but relief. It was over, it was finally over, but a shadow quickly cast over them when they realized they didn’t know which car to get into. Each different car in front of them felt like a choose-your-own-adventure game, some paths simple and beautiful, some dirty and windy. All they knew is that they weren’t expecting the turquoise monstrosity that pulled up in front of them. Their guardian wasn’t at the funeral? What was the cloud of smoke forming over the car? Who exactly was the man in the front seat? Missouri held her breath expecting it would be a straight-laced CPS worker coming to cast them away, but to her delight, that was far from the reality. The man in the front seat quickly jumped out of the car and went around the side. He was a strange-looking man, he wore the type of shirt a tourist would wear in Hawaii and overly ripped jeans. His orange framed spectacles held back his coily, untamed curls as he practically leaped at the kids. He took out his hand and one by one went down the line shaking each child’s hand. His loose grip reminded Dante of an anecdote his mother once told him, “Anyone with the firm grip of their hand has the same sort of grip on their life” and judging by the mystery man’s handshake, they were about to be in for a wild ride.

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