e windowbut Jacob was nowhere in sight. As Alice
stomped on the gas and―with the tires screeching like human screams―spun us around to face the
roadI caught sight of a shred of white near the edge of the trees. A piece of a shoe.
19. HATE
WE MADE OUR FLIGHT WITH SECONDS TO SPAREAND THEN the true torture began. The
plane sat idle on the tarmac while the flight attendants strolled―so casually―up and down the aisle
patting the bags in the overhead compartments to make sure everything fit. The pilots leaned out of the
cockpitchatting with them as they passed. Alice's hand was hard on my shoulderholding me in my seat
while I bounced anxiously up and down.
It's faster than running she reminded me in a low voice.
I just nodded in time with my bouncing.
At last the plane rolled lazily from the gate,
uggs boots clearance, building speed with a gradual steadiness that tortured me
further. I expected some kind of relief when we achieved liftoff,
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Alice lifted the phone on the back of the seat in front of her before we'd stopped climbing,
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back on the stewardess who eyed her with disapproval. Something about my expression stopped the
stewardess from coming over to proteyilai:
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On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Publishedabkliv