7
“You want to do what?” Olivia Wilcox said, staring at her daughter as if certain she hadn’t heard her correctly.
Danica was already beginning to regret coming home, but she didn’t have that much choice. What she had to do next required access to the Internet and her bank account. And she could only think of one even halfway reasonable-sounding excuse for suddenly wanting to acquire a wardrobe of Victorian dresses and accessories.
“I think I’m going to try cowboy action shooting,” she said.
“You’ve never shot a g*n in your life,” Olivia pointed out.
True enough. “They just call it that. You don’t actually have to shoot anything if you don’t want to. A lot of people just like to get dressed up and watch the shooting matches.”
Olivia crossed her arms, frowning. “And where did all this
