“Mal?!” Beth hissed-whispered, even as her grip tightened on the branch she held like a club.
The figure sprinting toward her out of the trees slowed just enough to raise both hands. “Yeah, yeah, don’t hit me,” Mal said, breathing a little unevenly, but her voice still carrying that usual bite.
Beth stared. For a second, her brain refused to catch up. Mal was dressed in their usual ‘work’ attire: a black hoodie, dark pants, boots meant for running, not fashion. Her locks were pulled back tight just like she did when they were on a job, and if that wasn’t a dead giveaway, Mal also had a bandana around her neck, which Beth knew would have been pulled up to cover Mal’s face since the woman despised ski masks. So, no doubt Mal had to be on a job. A job Beth knew nothing about.
“What the hel
