Entwhisle: A Narrative Fiction

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When I got home this afternoon, Sandra called her and they talked for a while. When Kate mentioned Mr. Entwhistle, Sandra immodestly asked why I didn’t answer his questions when he called on me. “I wasn’t sure that he was calling on me.” I responded. “Sorry I distracted you.” Sandra confessed, “I was going to tell you that he was talking to you.” I was a little angry that she didn’t tell me that earlier, but I forgave her. After a few moments, she asked “Why didn’t you took the note to the office?”. I didn’t know if I should tell the truth because she might reveal it to other people and eventually reach Mr. Entwhistle. “Can I trust you?” I questioned. “Of course.” She said honestly. “Ok, so one half of my body told me to go outside and the
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