13 WinnieWinnie felt stylish and professional when she stepped onto the glossy marble-look floor of LaNoir’s Hair & Nails. She wore a sleeveless white eyelet blouse and pencil-fit black slacks cropped above the ankle. Very chic for a cool, sunlit Wednesday morning and it still conformed to LaNoir’s dress code for shampoo girl.
The keychain Winnie held in one hand was not the best choice of fashion accessory. But after locking her apartment, she couldn’t make herself let go of the precious metal. During the half hour standing-room-only ride on the city bus, she’d clutched her two new keys so tight in one sweaty fist, she could still feel the dents the sharp serrations had made in her palm.
Soon as her rubber-soled Blowfish flats slapped onto the sidewalk, she’d loosened her grip and let t
