This book is dedicated to Lyla Joyce Britton, for always inspiring me and respecting the fact that I was totally and completely crazy, and that being crazy was a good thing.

From: sophie.r.britton@gmail.com
To: reader@gmail.com
Subject: Never Trust a Suspicious Robot
Dear Reader,
It all started with an unexpected envelope. It was a beautiful May morning, with light streaming through the window. It was 6:15. I had woken up early. I was in my art room, drawing with a yellow pencil with Flappy, my penguin pencil topper. The art room had light tan walls and beige carpet. The doors were white with silver door knobs. On the wall with the main door, there was a
large whiteboard and 2 doors that lead to a closet. Inside the closet were 2 sets of shelves holding various craft supplies. On the adjacent wall was Lyla’s desk and a window. Lyla was my 10- year old twin sister. The window had raised blinds and a white windowsill. Sitting on the windowsill were some stuffed pandas. Lyla’s desk was white with pink beams. There was a row of slow-rising foam, squishable pencil toppers on one side and a ‘skyscraper’ made of 3 translucent crates on the other. In the crates were folders, notebooks, journals,
art supplies and small cats. My desk was on the adjacent wall to Lyla’s. Also, It was white with pink beams. Mine had a purple magazine holder and a purple cady. In the magazine holder, there were journals, notebooks, papers and folders. In the cady were my squishy pencil toppers, some small journals, clay figurine hippos and my translucent purple pencil case. On the side of my desk that touched the wall, there were lego hippos. On the last wall there was a black nightstand and a tall, black bookshelf with lego sets on it. The nightstand held
lego instruction books.
I was still in my sea green unicorn pajamas. I had short, brown hair. It was slightly curly. I also had brown eyes and pale skin. I much preferred the pencil toppers still and silent.
About 3 months ago, Lyla lost her cat pencil topper, Rolly Polly. Mummy had then bought us a 12 pack of pencil toppers. When we had finished trading, they had come to life and started wreaking havoc. Then, we found a book called What to do When Your Life Turns into a Fantasy Story. It told us
to buy the freezer potion from this strange store. We had used it on the pencil toppers. It had worked. Then, a note appeared that read: This is not over. Not even close.
I had no idea what it meant.
According to my tablet, which was playing kidz bop, it was now 6:30. 30 minutes until my alarm rang. Today was the last day of school! I couldn’t wait for summer. I was getting bored of school. We would be heading to Florida!
But I was still questioning the note. I then noticed an envelope on my desk. How did
this get here? I thought. It said: To Lyla and Sophie. There was no return address. I opened the envelope. I was just about to read it when the alarm rang. RING! RING! Oh come on! Why was school always getting in the way?
After school, I showed Lyla the envelope. She looked a lot like me, but her hair was curlier. I was now wearing a pink t-shirt and blue shorts. Lyla was wearing a blue t-shirt with a mer-cat on it and purple shorts. “Let’s open it!” She told me. We opened it. It read:
Dear Lyla and Sophie,
I know you have already gotten my note about the upcoming danger. I don’t know what the danger is, but it will commence in 3 days time. Be prepared. I will see you soon.
From,
I Choose Not To Tell You My Name
The author of What to do When Your Life Turns into a Fantasy Story! How did he (Or she) know about ‘upcoming danger’? And did I Choose Not To Tell You My Name his (Or her) name? Or did he (Or she) have a different
name? If so, what was his (Or her) real name? Then I noticed something on the back of the envelope. It read RETURN TO 0000 nonexistent ct, NoCity ZZ. Odd. That did not sound like an address.
I then had an idea. “What if we wrote a letter back?” I asked Lyla. “Great idea!” She replied. I pulled out a sheet of paper and wrote:
Dear I Choose Not To Tell You My Name,
What is this ‘upcoming danger’ and how do you know about it? Is your address really
0000 nonexistent ct, NoCity ZZ? Because that doesn't sound like an address. And, finally, what is your real name?
From,
Lyla Britton and Sophie R. Britton
The next day, I got a reply:
Dear Lyla and Sophie,
I will explain everything in two days' time.
From,
B
So he (or she) did have another name! And it began with B.
2 days later, Lyla and I were drawing. It was summer! DING! DONG! Lyla ran to the door. She came back with a package. I opened the package. Inside was an amethyst ring. Lyla placed it on the floor. Then, the amethyst on the ring started swirling. Then, a rainbow wormhole appeared. “Wha-'' Lyla started. The wormhole sucked us up.
We had arrived in a room with purple walls and impossibly black floors. There were also lots of bookshelves. There was no
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This book is dedicated to Lyla Joyce Britton, for always inspiring me and respecting the fact that I was totally and completely crazy, and that being crazy was a good thing.

From: sophie.r.britton@gmail.com
To: reader@gmail.com
Subject: Never Trust a Suspicious Robot
Dear Reader,
It all started with an unexpected envelope. It was a beautiful May morning, with light streaming through the window. It was 6:15. I had woken up early. I was in my art room, drawing with a yellow pencil with Flappy, my penguin pencil topper. The art room had light tan walls and beige carpet. The doors were white with silver door knobs. On the wall with the main door, there was a
large whiteboard and 2 doors that lead to a closet. Inside the closet were 2 sets of shelves holding various craft supplies. On the adjacent wall was Lyla’s desk and a window. Lyla was my 10- year old twin sister. The window had raised blinds and a white windowsill. Sitting on the windowsill were some stuffed pandas. Lyla’s desk was white with pink beams. There was a row of slow-rising foam, squishable pencil toppers on one side and a ‘skyscraper’ made of 3 translucent crates on the other. In the crates were folders, notebooks, journals,
art supplies and small cats. My desk was on the adjacent wall to Lyla’s. Also, It was white with pink beams. Mine had a purple magazine holder and a purple cady. In the magazine holder, there were journals, notebooks, papers and folders. In the cady were my squishy pencil toppers, some small journals, clay figurine hippos and my translucent purple pencil case. On the side of my desk that touched the wall, there were lego hippos. On the last wall there was a black nightstand and a tall, black bookshelf with lego sets on it. The nightstand held
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