“Did you just get here?” “No,” he grumbles. “I’ve been here all fucking night trying to”—he holds his free hand up in air quotes—“‘evacuate’ Rosie’s stupid mouse.” “Rosie’s stupid mouse?” Ford glares at me. “You know what? You’re right. I promised I wouldn’t ask.” “Let the record show that I love Rosie enough to spend all night sitting quietly in a shitty little bunkhouse just so I can catch her favorite rodent.”
