Chapter 3
My best friend did not like being told what to do by someone without the requisite authority. “Do what you ask?” Brisa retorted with more bravery than she could possibly be feeling. “I don’t think so!”
The unfamiliar male voice with the high, nasal tone and Get off my lawn delivery, imitated Brisa’s bravado through the theater sound system: “Don’t make snap decisions!”
The owner of the dusky voice pointed out, “You don’t even know the nature of our request.”
“And what might that be?” Brisa demanded.
The rest of us stood there, stock still.
“All in good time,” the voice purred.
I felt like I had to back Brisa up. “We don’t have a lot of time,” I said. “We’re in the middle of rehearsal.”
“Well, if you want to resume that activity,” the voice continued, “you’ll first satisfy
