I thought high school was the last place Madison could hurt me. Then she walked into my section 12 years later, took one look at me in an apron, and smiled like she’d just found her favorite toy again. I never thought I would see Madison again. In high school, Madison was the girl. Pretty. Rich. Loud. Untouchable. I was the girl she chose when she wanted an audience. People laughed because Madison was beautiful. Madison knew it too. And she loved it. “Did your mom find that sweater in a donation bin?” “Hey, Charity Case, are those shoes secondhand...
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