That’s Alison—Daisy’s best friend. I’ve got Slug and she’s got Alison. Both of us could probably do better. “Daisy,” she murmurs. That’s all she says. Daisy. Which makes me think she’s said a lot of other things about me in the past. And now that one word is a reminder of whatever awful things she said about me when I wasn’t standing right here. Alison doesn’t like me. She’s made that really clear. And it isn’t that she doesn’t know me and doesn’t understand me. Alison knows me. We are, in fact, lab partners in biology this year. We have spent plenty of time together. And every minute we spend
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Alison knows something. But considering that he is alive and not in prison in the future, it’s telling me that Alison either ended up dead or nobody believed her.
