I could just walk from department to department filling my cart with junk. Well, some of it was cheap jeans and sweat shirts. Those would be useful in...my real life. Much more useful than the less than two yards of red material Cheryl called a dress. I had also paid a hundred bucks a yard for that thing. Yes there was some buyers remorse there, I admit it. The truth is that somehow over the last year I had managed to accumulate more money than I had made in my whole life up to that point. I knew. Sanford bent over, examining the settings on the radio. He had the microphone in his hand."Sorry," I said, looking away. "I shouldn't have done that." Agnes had self-consciously—or subconsciously—swept the rest of her hair back behind her ears, securing whatever I had missed. I felt my face go from hot, to red hot. I looked down at my clamped-together hands, wishing I were anywhere but on that bus. Agnes sat back against the seat and looked out the window."I should move," I muttered, almost. More

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