“How many foster kids have you had?” I asked. “Six,” she said. “What happened to them?” She didn’t even blink. “None of your blessed business. Their stories are their own.” I thought for a moment. “Okay. What’s your superpower?” Teena said everybody had at least one. Francine tapped her hand against the steering wheel. “I work with idiots all day every day and never lose my temper,” she said. “Given some of my customers, not to mention my co-workers, that’s a daily miracle.” She took another sip of coffee. “What’s yours?” I said, “I don’t take snow from anybody.”
