![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() I stare at it for a moment, somehow still not quite used to the staggering view even though we’ve been here nearly four years. I grab the stepladder from the pantry to shut off the fire alarm, then open all the windows to our twenty-sixth-floor apartment, where the Upper East Side sprawls out beneath my feet-all the scores of towering buildings with their bright lights burning even long after anyone in their right mind should be asleep. I pull the oven open, and another whoosh of smoke comes out, revealing some seriously blackened Monster Cake. “Nope,” I mutter, crossing the kitchen to shut the oven off, “just my life.” The other half of the screen is currently occupied by the Great Expectations essay I have written and rewritten enough times that Charles Dickens is probably rolling in his grave. I lower the screen of my laptop down, where my older sister Paige’s now scowling face is taking up half the screen on a Skype call from UPenn. ![]() To be fair, when the alarm goes off, there’s barely even any smoke rising out of the oven. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright, please notify the publisher at: us./piracy. Copyright infringement is against the law. You may not make this e-book publicly available in any way. The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you for your personal use only. To receive special offers, bonus content,Īnd info on new releases and other great reads,įor email updates on the author, click here. ![]()
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