12
What’s a Little Gray Matter Mess Amongst Friends?
Bright sunlight streamed into my room and onto my face. I must have forgotten to draw the curtains last night. A vague memory of Great-Auntie Lula sitting at the end of my bed and humming a soothing tune crept into my head and then snuck back out just as quickly.
“Wake up, sunshine.” Wembley’s voice sounded oddly close.
I cracked my eyes. “Ack!”
An up-close-and-personal of Wembley’s beard had not been on my agenda, basically ever.
He backed up and lifted his hands. “Just checking that you were still breathing.
“What gives, Wembley? It’s, like, the crack of dawn.”
“It’s not the crack of dawn. Nowhere near. You have fifteen minutes before you have to leave for your appointment with Star.”
“What?” But as the question tumbled from m
