“Cecily Harper looked up from her notepad to see her father standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest and a smile on his face. She underlined her last words with a theatrical flourish. “You know, making lists is one of the seven habits of highly effective people.” “Honey, I’m used to your lists,” her father said. “You started making them as soon as you could spell. But your suitcase—you packed all your clothes by color.” She looked at her open suitcase on the bed. The whites were nes...tled at one end, the blacks at the other, with the brighter shades in between. Shrugging, Cecily said, “Well, how do you do it?” Affectionately he tousled her hair. This was slightly annoying, because she’d just fixed her ponytail, but Cecily didn’t worry about it for very long. She was much more worried about the fact that her father had caught sight of something unusual in her suitcase. He picked up the vial of moth wings and frowned. “What is this?” “Uh.” Cecily tried to think of a lie, but she couldn’t.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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