She picked up my hand and compared knuckles. Both our rights were bruised, split. “Good day,” she whispered. I lifted her bruised hand to my lips, kissed each knuckle lightly. “A very good day,” I agreed. “Let’s go get a drink,” Jane said, opening the driver’s door. “I smell charred flesh,” Emily said. “Huh. Imagine that,” Jane mused, putting the SUV in gear. “Here,” I said, digging in my pocket. “I got you something.” I pulled out Trey’s watch and handed it to Emily. Jane snorted.
