Pearl grins wryly as she says it. "Ms. Martin was right."
You're sitting on the steps of Cabin 12 while Pearl jogs in place, getting some last exercise in (and avoiding sitting too close to you) as the sun sinks below the trees.
It's just after lights out on the second-to-last night of Camp Cedarcrest. Even though the summer song of crickets and cicadas is just as loud as it's always been, there's a chilly thread running through the breeze that feels like fall. The summer is almost over.
Tomorrow is the bonfire. Tomorrow, everything changes.
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