FILTHY WITH THE DAD NEXT DOOR

AVA

I looked down at the notebook I’d been scribbling in. My teacher droned on about our bright futures and how excited she was for us, but I tuned her out and instead found enough free space on the page to write my name once more. Satisfied, I looked over my handiwork. I’d scrawled my name on every available space. Well, the name I hoped to have one day.

Mrs. David Emerson

Mrs. Ava Emerson

Ava Emerson

I sighed ...