“Children, stop that!” Miss Peregrine hissed. “Frank,” my mother said faintly, “who is that girl Jake’s kissing?” “I haven’t the slightest idea,” my father mumbled. “Jacob, who is that girl, and why are you kissing her?” My cheeks flushed. “Um, this is my … friend. Emma. We’re just saying goodbye.” Emma waved bashfully. “You won’t remember me, but … hello!” “Well, stop kissing strange girls and come along,” said my mother.
