The Empresss Tomb | Page 4 of 187

Author: Kirsten Miller | Submitted by: Maria Garcia | 2890 Views | Add a Review

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ant to go home.

The New York Post believed Kiki Strike was responsible. A man in the neighborhood was reported to have witnessed a pasty-looking elf in dark clothing casing the pet store the week before. (Not the most flattering description of Kiki, but not entirely inaccurate, either.)

” So. Where were you last night, Ananka?” my mother asked.

“Here,” I insisted, relieved to be able to tell her the truth. “I don’t know anything about this.”

“You know Kiki Strike. She was here on Thursday watching kung fu movies in our living room.”

“Yeah, but the girl I know is fourteen years old and couldn’t care less about the animal kingdom. The Post is just trying to sell papers, Mom. Everybody wants to believe there’s a teenage vigilante running amok in New York.”

My mother snorted like an angry bull preparing to charge. “Let me get this straight. You still expect me to believe that your friend had nothing to do with foiling that kidnapping plot a couple of months ago?”

“Do we have to go over this again? You saw the news,” I told her, sidestepping the truth. “The Kiki Strike story in June was a hoax. That girl who claimed Kiki rescued her from kidnappers was lying. She made up the story because she wanted to be on TV. Who knows where she got Kiki’s name? She could have picked it out of the phone book.”

My mother leaned back in her chair and glared at me through narrowed eyes. She had something else on her mind, and I knew it couldn’t be good. I saw a mouse take a cautious step out of the cabinet under the kitchen sink. He took one look at my mother and scurried back to safety.

“Principal Wickham called yesterday afternoon,” my mother finally announced. “Your history teacher says you haven’t been paying attention in class. He claims you slept through a lecture on the founding of New York. Apparently you didn’t even bother to clean up your drool when you left.” At last I had identified the species of bee in her bonnet. My extracurricular activities weren’t the issue. I could dress up like Wonder Woman and fight the forces of evil as long as I got good grades.

“I don’t drool. Mr. Dedly doesn’t like me because I know more about New York history than he does.” It may sound conceited, but I wasn’t exaggerating. I’d spent two years picking through my parents’ massive library and gobbling up every book I could find on the subject. I knew how many unfortunate workmen were entombed in the Brooklyn Bridge, which burial grounds had once supplied the city’s medical students with fresh corpses to dissect, and the location of the secret underground railroad built for the Vanderbilt family’s personal use. I could have taught the class myself—and with much more flair than Mr. Dedly, I might add.

“That may be true, Ananka. But Mr. Dedly isn’t the only teacher who’s caught you taking cat naps.”

“Who else complained?” I

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Great book, nicely written and thank you BooksVooks for uploading

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