Page 25 of Wham Line

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Fox stood at the top of the stairs, where a grim-faced Dahlberg blocked their way into Indira’s flat.“—don’t understand why I can’t get her purse.It’sherpurse.Now get out of my way you—you absolute fanny!”

“What’s going on here?”Bobby asked.

“Until I hear from the sheriff,” Dahlberg said, and her voice managed to be both professional and surprisingly compassionate at the same time, “nobody’s coming in here.I’m sorry, Fox.I understand—”

“Youdon’tunderstand,” Fox cut in, but the words wobbled with the sound of tears, and they wiped their face.

Bobby took the stairs two at a time.“What do you need from Indira’s purse?Or what does Indira need?”

“Her ID, her phone.”Fox ran their hands over their face again and gave a despairing laugh.“Money.”

“Her wallet and phone aren’t listed on the warrant,” Bobby said to Dahlberg.

Dahlberg’s expression softened.“Stay here.”A moment later, she was back, passing a small leather wallet and a phone to Fox.“What about medication?”

Fox sniffed, but they shook their head.

Dahlberg gave Bobby a look, and Bobby walked Fox down the stairs.We went outside into the bright chilliness of the day.It was disorienting.It was still morning, and the sky was clear, and the sun was high.It felt like it should be night again—that endless dark full of broken lights, where Bobby and I had been the night before.

“We’ll drive you to the station—” Bobby began.

“No,” Fox said.Their face was drawn in the thin winter light.Their mascara had run.They adjusted their heavy jacket and looked around, as though trying to place themselves.“I’ll just—” They stopped, swallowed, and touched Bobby’s arm.“Thank you.”

And then they hurried toward their van.

“Do you want to call Lyda on the way?”Bobby asked.“Someone needs to tell Keme.”

“I’ll text Fox her information.I think Keme can wait, actually.You saw how he freaked out yesterday.Let’s find out what the sheriff intends to do; the last thing we need is Keme and Fox trying to mastermind a prison break before Indira even gets arrested.”

Bobby gave a grunt that was almost a laugh.

“It would obviously involve Fox trying to seduce the sheriff.”

“Good luck.”

“And there would be a file baked into a cake.”

His hand was warm on the back of my neck as he steered me toward the Pilot.

“And I want to say Keme would either be in a laundry cart or tunneling his way through concrete with a spoon.”

“You had a lot of alone time as a kid, didn’t you?”

“Bobby!”

“Watched a lot of cartoons?”

“This is the rudest of rude!”

His big, goofy grin splashed out—a bit dimmer than usual, but still so genuinely Bobby.

It was such an easy, normal moment that when I remembered his mom, it was like hitting a brick wall.

He must have seen it on my face because his own expression sobered.“It’s all right, Dash.”

I nodded.The wind picked up, raking my hair, and I shivered inside my jacket.Bobby gave my neck a little squeeze, and that helped.A little.

“I was thinking,” I said.