“You know,” Lisa said, “y’all don’t actually have to come with me.”
“No, sweetie, we don’t,” Vin’s father, Jonah, said. “But we’re going to anyway.” He settled Zach on his hip. Lisa was far too nervous to carry her son.
She’d taken some particular care with her appearance, of an entirely different variety than the care that she took when she’d appeared before the judge. Her hair was back to being dyed brain-searingly wrong colors that didn’t appear in nature. She’d put all—and Vin did notice that all meant all, and there was something fundamentally weird about noticing that a sixteen-year-old girl had n****e piercings—of her pierced jewelry back in. Her eyeliner was thick, black, and elaborate.
No one said anything negative about it, although Angie had pressed her lips together, and the
