It’s not until we make it through the other side of town and are less than a quarter mile from Putnam Manor that Stephanie begins to put it together. “Wait, where are we going to dinner again?” she asks, her body language suddenly rigid, her tone brisk. Skyla winces slightly before turning around to face her. She doesn’t speak, but apparently, she doesn’t need to. Stephanie takes one look at her face and panics. Leaping for the door, she tries the handle, but I’ve already engaged the child locks miles ago. “No, no, no, no! How could you? Sky! Why are you doing this to me? I can’t see him! I
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