Ready and . . . I tapped Winter’s right leg twice. She pulled the ring from a smoke grenade and rolled it out of her right hand just like a bowling ball. It tumbled across the street, green smoke pouring out of it as it hit the curb. People shouted excitedly as towers of smoke billowed into the air, creating a fog. If there were any kids around, at least it was nontoxic. “I did it?” she asked in my ear. “Perfect.” I wished she could see it.
