He snorts. “Exactly. But normal people, too. After all, if I only catered to a certain clientele, I’d be out of business. There’s not that many of us.” Us. The word feels like an ill-fitting coat. She resists the urge to shrug it off. Instead asks, “Why not?” Ezra exhales another plume. “Fickleness, I suppose. And folly.”
Foreshdowing
