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It had been one of those bad days when it seemed to Nina like all the other fifth-grade girls had transformed into aliens that only cared about lip gloss and eighth-grade boys. The last thing she needed was to see Ibrahim and Abuela waiting for her after
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60466
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Then one day, Grandmother warned our father, her son, just like that. "Steven," she said, though he hated it when she used his full name, "I think some sort of storm is coming."
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