“Very close.” Bettijean glanced around nervously and lowered her voice. “Hope to submit their copyright application by Friday.”
“Someone nearby is using you to beat WiZer to the patent office,” Dawna concluded.
“Someone twelve time zones away,” Bettijean argued.
No point telling her that it was impossible to guess her bed time from that distance. She was so heavily into denial, she’d likely claim that a skilled long-distance hacker could solve that problem too. Scary logic wouldn’t persuade her stubbornly independent sister to take any help.
So instead, Dawna let a huge grin take over her face. “Betcha I’m right,” she drawled, using the phrase that had earned her gamble-loving sister her pet name.
Bettijean—Bettcha—blinked. “You want to turn this into a wager?”
“Let me watch your bac
