Blobs of color, splotches of more, covered it along with finger swirls and prints, dots, and shaky lines. She said, “Wow.” “Bella loves to paint. Finger painting’s her specialty. When I told her we were coming to see you today, she wanted to make you a painting.” “It’s great.” And rivaled, she thought, one of Jenkinson’s most eye-burning ties for impact. Bella crawled up into Eve’s lap, wiggled her butt down. She took Eve’s hand so they pointed together. “Das,” she said. “Ork. Somshit. Gah-ad.” She tapped, then moved up. “Das Ork how.”
