16I prodded Woody toward the elevator. Bella followed. When the doors opened, Dawna shooed us inside.
I kept one hand on Woody’s fleece-covered arm. “You must’ve hit the road five minutes after we finished talking,” I said to Bella.
“Thirty minutes.” Glancing at the mirrored wall, Bella patted her hairdo with an open palm as if a rebellious hair had gotten out of line. “That was all the time I needed to analyze the situation and load the car.”
“Enough,” Dawna barked. “Save the conversation till we get private.”
Bella snorted but she didn’t speak again.
Once she’d hustled us all inside her room, Dawna flipped the security latch on the inside of her door.
I popped into the bathroom for a hit off Dawna’s bottle of mouthwash.
She crowded in behind me and dosed herself. Her eyes met mine
