Chapter 18 Leaving so soon?

Tegan

I wake up to the smell of industrial-strength bleach and the rhythmic, metallic thud-thud-thud of a heavy-duty dryer.

My neck is kinked at a ninety-degree angle against a stack of folded jerseys, and my left foot is currently submerged in a basket of mismatched hockey socks. I blink, tryi...

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