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I couldn’t even. My ability to even was severely compromised.
Bern took Ragnar from Augustine and carried him into my office; Grandma Frida wrapped a blanket around Runa, Arabella thrust a cup of hot cocoa into her hands, Leon told her she was safe now, and Mom thanked Augustine and shut the door in his face.
A framed picture of Alessandro Sagredo sat on my desk. The frame itself was square, but the photograph cutout was shaped like a heart, its edge studded with rhinestones seated in the small pools of the glue from the hot glue gun. The left half of the frame was a hideous Pepto-Bismol pink; the other was covered in pink glitter. Massive plastic jewels decorated both. The image of Alessandro was black and white, and on it in pink glittery marker someone had written, “My smoochie poo.” I would recognize that cursive anywhere. My twenty-eight-year-old sister took the time out of her busy schedule
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Why ? Because you did the same to her ahah : VINDICATIOOON ! x)
I slapped the frame facedown on the desk. The back of the frame was covered in pink hearts and small pictures of Alessandro printed from his Instagram. If the world had any compassion in it at all, I would teleport a thousand miles away. Runa squinted at the back of the frame. “Is that Alessandro Sagredo?” I picked up the frame to throw it in the trash, changed my mind halfway there, and dropped it into the desk’s top drawer instead. Putting him in the garbage was beyond me.
“We have more than enough guest bedrooms and if you don’t want to be alone, you can crash on the media room couch. Someone’s always in the media room.” She stared at me. “It’s a very special couch,” I told her. “Mad Rogan once fell asleep on it. We’re thinking of having it gold-plated and donated to a museum . . .”
“I don’t want to put anyone in danger,” Runa said. “Danger is our middle name,” Grandma Frida said. Mom stopped what she was doing and looked at Grandma Frida. “What?” Grandma Frida shrugged. “It’s been too quiet around here. I’m ready for some action.” “The last time you got some action, you drove Romeo through a storm mage’s compound, while Nevada rode shotgun and fired a grenade launcher at the giant animated constructs chasing you,” Mom said. “Your tank had to be rebuilt from the tracks up, and you had four broken ribs and a gash on your head that needed thirty stitches.” “Don’t you worry
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Grandma Frida is the MVP
