I’m thinking about how cute Toto will be with bits of fluffy cream stuck to his chin when my phone chimes with a text.
We’re almost to our neighborhood, but I know it’s Nero replying, and I want to respond.
I try to shuffle both cups into one hand. But spilling either in this pristine and expensive vehicle seems like a bad idea. So, I lean forward to put my drink into the cupholder near my knees. And bent over, face between the front seats, is when the whole car rocks.
A blinding light explodes in front of us, the noise earsplitting.
My eyes squint against the brightness, not understanding what just happened.
Then, seemingly all at once, Giles slams on the brakes and I jerk against my seat belt.
My hands tighten around the paper cups on reflex, and they both give way.
The pain lanci
