“Jordan…are you all packed for the night?” Sally called out from the living room.
“Mom! I’m fine.” She hollered back neatly placing the envelope on the bed next to her black duffle bag.
The envelope was truthfully the only neat looking item in the room – she had scoured the place for the fanciest pajama set she could find as well as her only school uniform set that wasn’t wrinkled – and the aftermath looked like World War III. Jordan might’ve been an introverted bookworm and a bedwetter, but she was still a seventh-grader and didn’t care to look frumpy in front of the medical staff at the hospital.