Banner stops a few feet in front of the huddled, stumbling form of Cinnamon Baker. She’s in a blanket, at least, but it’s pretty much exactly the blanket Jennifer would expect to find on a cot in the back room of the sheriff’s office. And Cinnamon’s tall enough that it doesn’t even cover her head to toe. Her blond hair is stiff, frozen in tangles, and the snot on her face is icy, her red-rimmed eyes the kind of blank that means she’s just been putting one foot in front of the other, that she’s already given up on actually getting anywhere. It’s the kind of walk that’s really just a long, slow
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The gaps in action, unclear descriptions, and "insider" dialogue that feels like it's 80% inside jokes makes this a frustrating read.
