There were a couple of beats of silence, in which Anna thought, Her Don put her through some of the same s**t the old lady put me through. If I’m ever going to tell anyone about that pet of the old lady’s, it had better be Arlene—especially if she knows about what I think she does, before asking carefully, her voice purposefully neutral, almost casual, “Were you looking in my bag for a coiled bracelet? Gold, with a green scarab on the end? A bracelet that”— and only here did Anna let caution color her voice—“that…moves?”
Even the dogs were quiet as the old woman nodded her head, her eyes wetly bright and fearful. Finally Arlene spoke, and when she did, it was Anna’s turn to feel her eyes grow glassy with welling cold tears.
“Then she’s still using that…thing?”
Anna took a deep breath be
