Cel wiped her face with the back of her hand. Smeared her makeup worse. Didn't care.
"That's a terrible plan," she said.
"It's my specialty."
"You don't have a plan. You have a direction and a bad attitude."
"Same thing." I let her go and she stayed close, shoulder against my arm, still leaking cold from her fingertips. "Directions have gotten me this far."
Natalia snorted from the table. "Directions have gotten you nearly killed six times."
"Seven if you count the pill night."
"The pill night doesn't count. That was recreational."
My mother turned from the window.
The folder was still in her hands. She hadn't opened it. She'd just held it while Seraphina talked and while Cel cried and while I made promises I didn't know how to keep, and now she stood there looking at the leather like it might bite her.
