CHAPTER 11CHARLIE
March 25, 2090
“What is the answer to number twenty-nine, Max?” Kinley asked for the second time.
Max held the paper up to his face. “Um, well, it could be a twenty-six, but on the other hand, it kind of looks like a seventy-eight.”
Kinley paced from one end of the dining room to the other, carrying a math textbook. Max, Rochelle, and Todd sat in a cluster on one end of the table, going over the geometry lesson Kinley had assigned the week before. I sat at the opposite end of the table beside Kat, writing my history report.
“You can’t tell the difference between a twenty-six and a seventy-eight?” Kat glanced up from her half-finished algebra assignment.
I coughed into my sleeve as I studied the photograph in my history book of eight kids my age all holding what the
