“You’re a what?” I heard my wife screech. I’d tuned out of their conversation and now I tuned back in. My wife and the woman in the black slacks were staring at the tall Nollywood-looking woman. “You’ve been talking to me for the last half hour,” the Nollywood woman said. “Do I look dangerous?” I made eye contact with my wife before turning to look at the tall woman. She was . . . one of them. She looked so normal. Except . . . it’s hard to explain. There was a flicker of oddness about her if you looked long enough. Like she was more than what she was and less than what she was presenting,
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