“WebMD says I’ve got about three hours until food poisoning kicks in.” He glances at his watch. Runs fingers through his hair. “I’m on borrowed time.” My laugh comes out in a puff of condensation. “You ate half the fucking bird.” He cuts me a sideways glare. “She was sitting right next to me. It’s all right for you; I saw you scrape all of yours into Penny’s purse.” “Yeah, now I’ve ruined it. Apparently, only a Birkin as a replacement will do.” My brother frowns. “I don’t know what that is.” “Mm. You better hope your wife doesn’t, either.”
