21
On her tiptoes, Whisper scampered down through the darkened house to the kitchen on the lowest floor. She made up some sandwiches and grabbed a six pack from the fridge while wondering if it would be wrong to mix margaritas. Though she herself was riding a high, it wasn’t like they were celebrating. The potential for everything to go to s**t still hung heavy in the air. Making the cocktail could tempt fate into screwing with them.
She heard someone coming down the stairs and chastised herself for not bringing her blade. There were a bunch of knives in the kitchen, but none matched hers. The sight of Bosco’s outline in the hall relaxed her, so she went to begin chopping fruit.
Bosco didn’t say anything, which wasn’t like him. Whisper assumed he was absorbing Zaid’s tale, so she kept c
