Fujioka Alternate Ending

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“If even the sun will die, what is immortal?” My English teacher, Mr. Hanson, asked our class. He leaned against his desk, “Anyone?” Daniella Lopez, our resident brain, said, “It’s like Richard Adams said: ideas are immortal.” “That’s an interesting concept,” Mr. Hanson praised. “Does anyone have anything they’d like to add to that?” In the back corner of the room, a hand with painted black fingernails rose up, and a pair of combat boots hit the floor heavily as Mae Fujioka slid her feet off of her desk. Mr. Hanson’s eyes wandered, looking for someone, anyone else to call on. But Mae’s narrowed eyes scoured the classroom, too, almost daring anyone to stop her from saying what she had to say. No one did. “Miss Fujioka,” Mr. Hanson acknowledged

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