Mimi grabs a basket. The brown bag, a set of notebooks, matching binders. Neat and sleek and most importantly, totally, utterly, blessedly normal
Twenty. Forty. Sixty. Eighty.
Mimi thumbs through the bills in her pocketbook. How much does she have on her? One hundred, two hundred. Four hundred. Enough for…
Ahead of her, Tzippy and Ella browse the display of knapsacks with twin grimaces. “They’re okay, but nothing special,” Ella says decisively. “Like, for ninth grade it could work. Maaaaybe tenth. Not for us.”
“Yeah, let’s get outta here,” Tzippy says.
They turn to leave. Mimi hesitates when she spots a brown suede bag with small gold zippers. Smart. Plain. Almost… sensible.
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