She sighs. “Being an adult is more than an age. If you leave here, how are you going to provide for yourself? I believe your father’s assets have been frozen. You only have”—she looks at my file—“less than twelve hundred dollars in savings. Where are you going to live? How are you going to pay for food or shelter? What will your transcripts look like with you bouncing around from school to school?”

As I absorb her words, I realize turning eighteen doesn’t automatically make you an adult in the real sense. Yes, I’d be allowed to leave Paula’s, but then what? I can’t be more of a burden to the Gleasons—financially or otherwise. That’s probably why Sheriff Gleason told me I had to stay until graduation.

Ms. Martinez glances at her phone. “Anything else you’d like to tell me?”

So, basically, I need to just shut up and deal.

Six months.

I can do this.

“Yeah,” I reply. She looks up from her notes. “Can you not tell Paula about this?”

“Everything between us is confidential. I’ll give you my card, and call if you need anything. I’ll come again in two weeks to check in on you.”

Two weeks. I’ve been here for five days, and it already feels like an eternity.

She stands up. “I know this is an adjustment for you, but you should realize how lucky you are.”

Funny, I don’t feel the slightest bit lucky. I feel cursed. Doomed to a life that belongs to someone else.

Amanda Linsley would have—no doubt—been happy here. She would’ve lived with a life intact. She would’ve been happy shuffling back and forth between her two parents. Or maybe she would’ve eventually lived with her dad. I have no idea.

What I do know is that I am not Amanda Linsley. Or Allison McMullen. Or Allison Johnson.

I’m Ally Smith. And Ally Smith has to wait six months to go home.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter

THIRTY-SEVEN

Because I’m one of those nerds who like school, the first day of school was always fun for me. Maybe that’s why I’m so drawn to a future in education. I’d pack my book bag with brand-new notebooks and pens. I couldn’t wait to fill them, and my brain, with new information.

I can say with absolute certainty I’ve never had a first day like this before.

When Paula took me to visit John F. Kennedy High School, I didn’t want to get out of the car. It’s the size of two city blocks. There are nearly two thousand students—the population of Valley Falls. As I was given the tour, which included a map, I knew I was going to get lost. Not just physically lost, but lost in a sea of students.