Chapter 7: Thinking

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(Keefe POV)

My eyelids shut down but my mind stayed awake. Is she really a witch? Will she find me out and kill me? She's kind of pretty. So was her friend. Are they related? Did she see me blush? Does she think I'm cute? Not that I have a crush on her anyway. Right? I sigh. I don't know. I play her name on my tongue again until I fall asleep. Sophie Foster, Sophie Foster, Sophie Foster, Sophie Foster, Sophie F...

"Tell me, boy. What is your plan?" Dad asked, coldly. "I'm not sure yet, sir." I reply. He whacks my forehead with the back of his hand. "Every master murderer has a plan, Keefe!" he states. My eyes narrow. "Well maybe I'm not a master murderer! I'm not always the boy you want me to be, Dad! Sometimes, I wanna be a normal teenage boy!" I shout and run upstairs, barely avoiding the fast hit coming at me. I curled up in a ball and sulked. My life isn't fair.

I decided to try and talk with Sophie, but I wasn't sure how. My dad has a creepy tracker that tells him her current location, but I'm not in great waters with him yet. Or ever, really. Ever since my mom died, he's been lurking in the shadows doing things she would never have let him do. I tip-toed to my dad's office and borrowed the tracker. She was at school. "Darn it. I forgot." I muttered, shoving the tracker into my jeans pocket. Grabbing my car keys and coat, I drove to her school. I knew I was being creepy, but I'm a good faker.

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