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“Are you tracking me?” His phone came out of his pocket. “Did you mess with my Snap settings?” “I can’t believe you asked me that. Of course not.” Faith would never touch his phone. She had hidden the tracker inside the trunk of his car.
No one knew where Faith was right now. No one was asking her to talk about their relationship or flooding her inbox with smiley emojis or wailing at her because their Totoro blankie was in the washer,
“You know who doesn’t need your condescending bullshit right now? Here’s a clue, detective: her fucking name rhymes with Maith.”
If Emma saw that her construction paper had been torn into strips, that her Hello Kitty tape had been used, that her drawings were gone from the fridge, she would have such a fiery meltdown that a couple of hobbits would show up to toss some rings at her.
“You know I don’t trust men who wear glasses. Why can’t they see?” Faith
The cheese on her sandwich touched her plate, which apparently opened a portal into the gateways of hell.”
