Estonoa’s high school looked almost exactly the same as it had all those years ago, when Deb was convinced Terri’s principal could somehow get her in trouble back in Cincinnati. Maybe using some kind of bright-red Bad Student Alert phone they all carried in their pockets, years before cell phones were anywhere near as common as they were now.
Not that she’d heard of some top-secret Principal’s Special Interstate Disciplinary Network app even now, but she wouldn’t bet against it.
The two-story brick building sat on a rise, with freshly paved black parking lots all around, and all the athletic stuff out back. A steep, forested hill cozied up the side opposite the road, thick with a dozen shades of green bright from yesterday’s rain.
Today the cool air was fresh and clean, with only a hint
