It’s only natural, then, that when he notices spots appearing on the back of his closet, he doesn’t think anything of it. Strange things are always happening in the Krasner house, and this is just the ghost asserting itself. The spots begin to grow, and Duvy ignores them in the way that he ignores everything about his closet, except the pants that he’d knocked to the floor earlier that week and needs for school.
The spots become larger, meet and bloat, until Mrs. Krasner is putting away laundry one afternoon and parts the sea of grays and browns and greens in the closet. She shrieks, and everyone runs. “It’s the ghost!” Duvy announces, waving dramatically at the wall.
“Oh, it’s much worse than that,” Mrs. Krasner says mournfully. “It’s mold.”
Ayesha Franklin is accustomed to being a fish out of water. She’s always been a little strange, a little too bright, and a little too caustic, but that, she feels, has proven an advantage. Maybe it’s why she’s always challenged herself, has always pushed to flout expectations and to take every obstacle as an invitation.
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