I rub the back of my neck. “No, it was the water. I put a little – just a couple of drops – of orange juice in my water. Then, during our last bathroom break, right before the proctor took our tests, I switched them out.” “And nearly killed her,” he adds sharply. “But I didn’t!” I shoot back. “It was just a couple of drops. Enough to cause a reaction, to freak out the proctor, but not enough to kill her.” I’d spent those months before asking Anna all sorts of questions about her rare but severe allergy to oranges. I also knew she kept an EpiPen on her at all times.
oh my girl fought DIRTY to get into Lionswood
