Chapter Three: Two Days’ Notice

How to Disappear Twice in One Month

A week had passed.

Seven days in a quiet house.

No school. No schedule.

No yelling.

No fighting.

No purpose.

I wasn’t in a home. I was in a holding cell with curtains.

Miss Lyla was still kind. Still soft. Still the same.

But I was learning that kindness and connection aren’t the same thing.

She fed me. She asked if I slept well. She offered toast or eggs or fru…