Sixty-four

SARAH

Sarah hid me in her attic once.

Buddy, her father, hated me, so we snuck around and developed all sorts of elaborate schemes to be together.

I was in her house one night when he unexpectedly returned. I could hear his massive feet on the attic steps as Sarah hastily tried to hide me. She pushed me between some old furniture and tossed a cloth over it.

Buddy wasn’t fooled. The cloth flew upward and our hoax was exposed. I waited for death, for St. Peter.

But Buddy just smiled as he pointed toward the steps.

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