Memories Of Whispers
As the tires glided over the slick road, my mind replayed every whisper I’d ever caught among the school parents—half-spoken comments, uneasy glances, fragments of stories that once seemed like harmless gossip. Now, they strung together in my thoughts like a haunting melody, hinting at something deeper beneath the surface. Could those rumors be the key to unraveling this strange morning? I clung to the possibility, chewing on the growing suspicion that there was more to the bus driver than any of us had realized. Maybe—just maybe—today would finally bring the answers we’d all been missing.
Memories Of Whispers
Another Odd Turn
The bus veered suddenly into a lively neighborhood, its turn sharp and deliberate, and I followed close behind, curiosity sharpening with every block. This wasn’t part of any school route I recognized. The streets buzzed with activity—storefronts opening, pedestrians weaving through traffic, the rhythm of a normal day unfolding. But this detour didn’t feel normal. My instincts flared, alert to the shift in atmosphere. This wasn’t a mistake—it was intentional. Something was undeniably off, and I was more determined than ever to uncover what it was.
Another Odd Turn
