Whenever her mother had impulsively decided to pack up and leave town – which had happened far too many times in Tessa’s sixteen years to count any longer – more often than not those poorly thought out moves had occurred on this day of the week. As a little girl, she’d once broken her wrist on a Wednesday, a school playground accident. Or, at least, bad things always seemed to happen to her on those days. Tessa Pedersen knew it was a Wednesday – for her what had become the most dreaded day of the week over the years – because of the unsettled feeling in her belly, a feeling that was rarely wrong.īad things always happened on Wednesdays. She knew it without having to glance at a calendar or her phone, or without being told what day of the week it was. She knew it was a Wednesday even before she opened her eyes. Twenty-Two Chapter One Tucson, Arizona - October
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