Cassandra was a living, breathing stereotype. Her spindly frame was swallowed in her baggy hand-me-downs and her thick glasses never sat straight on her crooked nose. But those things didn’t matter to her, even at a young age she knew what mattered and what didn’t.
Appearances? Not important.
Taunts? Mattered even less.
Imagination? Now that was everything.
Cassie had consumed her eleven...
