high-school

Margaret Simon, now aged thirteen, was on the cusp of adolescence. Her world had extended from pre-teen woes and everyday problems to a realm of new experiences, hopes, and apprehensions. She continued her heartfelt conversations with God, a sanctuary where she expressed her feelings and sought answers.

It was the eve of another ordinary day in the sleepy town of Chamberlain, Maine. The streets were silent, the only sound breaking the stillness was the rustling of leaves against the evening breeze. On Carlin Street, a light flickered dimly through the drawn curtains of a dilapidated house – the White home.