Mason Hall. Three.
The woman who came to retrieve Cara was neither as deferential as Penny nor as icy as Ms. Carrington. In fact, with her mass of black hair held back with a white bandanna and her faded sweatshirt and denims, Beatrice Thurmond looked too laid back, too chill to be a supervisor. She gave Cara a warm smile. “You look like your Mom. And you got a touch of your Pappy in you.” “You knew Pappy?” She…
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