He grips a shirt in his hand as he sits down. Here we fucking go. I glare at Leana, and she gives me a sorry-filled shrug. Karson spreads the gray shirt open and laughs. It says “Cereal Killer” right across the front. A playful skull smiles below the lettering, complete with crossed spoons instead of crossbones. I scowl. “Oh, come on. It’s punny.” He looks at the shirt proudly. It could be worse, I guess. Silver linings and shit. I look into the back seat and pin Leana with a pleading glare. “Please tell me you also got something I can actually wear.” “Of course.” Leana nods and shakes a bag
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