Bridget hums. “It’s not a bad plan, you know? To take some time to think about yourself—what you want, what you need—that can only be a good thing. I approve. And if it makes you feel better,” Bridget says, “my mom gave Wolf an earful when he told us what happened. Apparently she doesn’t believe in ‘breathers.’ And you know what Christine Clark is like when she’s salty.” That does make me feel better. “How many horse shits?” “All of them,” Bridget says. “I think she ran out.”
