CLOVIS DRESSED ME IN rags before we left his house. My clothing was too modern and glamorous for Hell, and I stuck out like a sore thumb. If we were to avoid detection, I would have to blend into the surroundings.
“You’re a real i***t, i***t,” Beatrice told me as she wrapped me in another layer of rags.
“I know,” I sighed. “I blame my mother.”
“You should,” Beatrice replied, smiling. She handed me a satchel to carry the book I stole from Charlie.
After they dressed me, Clovis left Beatrice at home despite her whining. It was dangerous work he did, leading two fugitives through the streets of Dis, and he wanted to make sure Beatrice was safe. I understood that.
Clovis guided us out of the house and through the winding roads of Dis. It was early in the day, and other vendors weren’t set
