Dear Jules:
The Halls moved out of Amity today.
She told me. Amity did.
Like a bat out of hell. Or bats, I guess, seeing as it was the four of them—Mr. and Mrs., and the kids, Luke and Gwen. Who aren’t really kids, you know, with Gwen being exactly my age—our age—and Luke barely a full year older. Not quite twins—not like us. But close enough, right?
Anyway: Gwen. I could tell Gwen was different right from the start. Something about the light in her eyes told me that she had ways of seeing that were … well, you know, different from normal people.
I liked that about her. Of course. I like different.
It reminds me of me.
But Amity? Well.
Amity doesn’t care much about different. Amity doesn’t care much about anything, does she? Amity just wants what she wants.
Twenty-eight days. Barely a month. That’s how long they lasted, the Halls, at Amity.
Exactly the same as us.
—Connor