Trevor
I told them I didn’t want to meet Lucy, but like usual, nobody listened to me. Mr. Segretto got on the phone with someone called Beth, and the next thing I knew everyone was smiling and telling me I’m going to meet Lucy like she’s some kind of six-year old celebrity and I should be excited.
The new furniture had arrived for the lobby, but the couches and armchairs were still wrapped in plastic. I sat on a loveseat and lined up my herbivorous dinosaurs across the back of the sofa. Every time I moved, the plastic squeaked and crinkled under me. But I was only pretending to play. What I was really doing was watching the adults.
Mr. Segretto seemed nice. When he talked, he used his hands a lot, pointing and waving and making gestures almost like he was telling a story in sign langua
