RITA AND Flint had more dynamics than grandmother and granddaughter. They finished each other's sentences, talked the way friends would, and even joked around like youngsters. There were no age boundaries between them. Flint could treat Rita comfortably, but also respectfully. I could see the way she saw her grandmother. It was something in between love and admiration. I guess I would too if I had someone like Rita.
A loving grandmother who works hard and provides you with enough love as well as affection. Even though Rita looked rough on the outside, for the day I had spent in this small cabin, I could see a little bit of a softie inside of her.
They never talked about the thing anymore. About the bounty hunters Rhys probably put in my head. I, myself, still could not believe that Rhys
