Ever.
I stopped walking.
"What?"
Mrs. Jenkins folded her hands.
"Oh nothing."
I narrowed my eyes.
"What did you do?"
"We didn't do anything."
Mrs. Baker immediately started laughing.
That was all the answer I needed.
I turned toward the bar.
Wolf was standing behind it.
Trying—and failing—not to grin.
"What?"
Wolf pointed toward the screen mounted above the bar.
I looked up.
Then immediately regretted it.
There I was.
Covered head to toe in mud.
Half-submerged in the drainage ditch.
One boot is sticking straight into the air.
The picture filled the entire screen.
The entire tavern erupted.
I closed my eyes.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
"Tell me that's not what I think it is."
"It is."
"Who posted it?"
Wolf crossed his arms.
