From the Desk of Zoe Washington: Chapter 23–Epilogue

When I skimmed through some of the sites, I saw that they were all over the country, and some even lived abroad.

There was a clear winner. The ones with less sugar and more-saturated cereal milk. It tasted delicious!

It had the essence of the Froot Loops, without being too sweet.

“Right...,” Mr. Miller said, sounding skeptical. It made me second-guess myself for a moment. Had I called the right person?

“Listen,” Mr. Miller interrupted again. He sounded exasperated. “I really don’t have time for this..."

The real worry that was lodged deep in my throat was that all this sneaking around wouldn’t be worth it in the end.

“I can’t believe how fast you’re growing up. I remember when you two would watch a movie together curled up on blankets in our living room. Now you’re going off on your own, meeting friends.” Her voice got all nostalgic.

The words “Somerville Theatre” were engraved in stone on the front of the building. The marquee didn’t have screens with electronic letters—instead, it had black letters that had to be stuck to the sign. Every time a movie changed, someone had to stand up on a ladder and switch them by hand.

Since it was early afternoon on a weekday, when everyone was at work, it wasn’t crowded. Thank goodness, because it was already overwhelming to be doing this by ourselves.

I hurried down a path that led past the dorms and into the next quad. This one was larger—on the map, it was called Old Yard.

I took a couple of quick bites to quiet my still-grumbling stomach and chased them down with another swig of water.

There was still a chance—we could still find Professor Thomas. Adrenaline burst through me as we raced back down the stairs of Sever Hall and back outside.

The science building wasn’t as majestic as the ones in the quads. It was a regular stone building with a bunch of windows.

My mind went completely blank. Then Trevor nudged me, which jolted me back into action.

It seemed so hopeless, the idea that he could be innocent. I was probably naive to think he didn’t deserve to be in prison.

I couldn’t believe we were getting away with this. It was the one consolation for what had turned out to be a pretty disappointing day.

“We’re dead. Done. Burnt toast,” Trevor said after his mom shut the car door behind her. His voice was full of dread, which made me feel terrible.

“You what?” Mom screamed, her volume reaching a new decibel.

“No internship today, because you’re still grounded. We didn’t want to inconvenience Ariana, but Mom talked to her yesterday, and she said they’ll be fine without your help today.”

“I don’t know what to think. I’m still in shock. I spent so long convincing myself he had to be guilty. It was easier to believe that, to justify him being in prison—away from us.”

"Froot Loops?” he asked, his bushy eyebrows furrowing.

Our shoes tapped against the linoleum floor, and the fluorescent lights above us were so bright.

But hopefully he’d get to try my desserts soon, outside of prison. The Innocence Project lawyers were working with him on that. Dad told me they were feeling optimistic.

In the end, Marcus’s conviction was overturned, and that other man ended up being found guilty of the crime. I cried so hard when I heard the judge name Marcus “not guilty.”

It was a two-tiered cake made with my cereal cupcake recipe.