I waited for her to distill it into some tidy tale devoid of passion and danger, but she said nothing for a moment. I took great pleasure in telling that last bit, actually, after the way she’d treated him in the driveway. I sighed, a little amazed that I was just going to tell the truth, and then I described the entire attack-from the loss of the ring to Luke’s rescue. “What was it?” Her voice was calm and even she might as well have been asking, “How did it go?” or “Did you have a nice day today?” “Do you really want to explain that dress to your mother? I have some of your clothes at my house still.” Granna really looked at me for the first time, and I blinked, seeing so much of Mom’s eyes in hers, hidden with crow’s feet. “Your house?” I paused, hand in glove box. “Alcohol wipes in the glove box,” Granna said. I wondered what would happen to the giant cat’s body. As she pulled out of the lot, I glanced discreetly in the rearview mirror, hoping for a glimpse of Luke, but there was only an audience of birches visible.
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