“You came,” Verity says, looking more alert than she has all day. “And we brought food,” Story says, holding up a greasy bag. Verity inhales deeply, immediately sitting up. “Is that from Señor Mexicana?” “Yep. Special number five.” “Oh my god, I love you.” She snatches the bag from her. “I’m starving.” At Verity’s defiant look, I hold up my hands. “Go for it. Your body needs fuel.” “Got you one too, Dr. Daddy,” Lavinia says,
Love these women
