Eight
With a moment to herself, Grace found composure. She pulled out her defense stick, a simple device that could conjure a repelling shield on command. She activated the shield now and ran her hand along its four sides, inspecting it for damage.
Maybe half her body would not be scarred, stiff, and unyielding had she thought to put this between herself and the exploding auto.
But she had only thought of reaching her husband and son as quickly as she could.
Had she been faster, perhaps she would be dead instead of disfigured. Had she found the second bomb as quickly as the first maybe they’d all be alive now.
She collapsed the shield with a sigh and slipped it back into her pocket.
Heron entered the office with a drink in each hand. Whistling a tune she didn’t recognize, he handed t
