Though the wires have come off my jaw, I’ve still got metal around my teeth. I already had to wear braces when I was thirteen, but now I have to wear them again until the dentist decides the teeth in my rebuilt jaw are straight enough. “Thith thuckth,” I grumble.
Besides the braces I’m dressed in my new school uniform. The school doesn’t allow anyone to wear anything more than lip gloss—and only pink at that—so my face is pasty and dull. My hair is past my shoulders now and still boring light brown; it’s held back with a headband that makes me look nine again. The black-framed glasses are my idea to help conceal my identity the way they do in comic books.
The name on my school ID is Rose Howard. I absol...
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