Page 203 of Property of Whiskey

I sigh. “Baby.”

“He does.”

Twila looks at me, then back at Wren. “I think your daddy’s scared of being wrong.”

I stare at her. “That ain’t what I said.”

Wren smiles. “See?”

“You two ganging up already?”

Twila crosses her arms. “Maybe Prickle needs legal representation.”

“Prickle trespasses.”

“Allegedly.”

“Lives in my woods.”

“According to a seven-year-old.”

“Who you’re representing.”

“Everyone deserves counsel.”

Wren starts giggling.

I point at Twila. “You’re encouraging this.”

“She’s funny.”

“She’s seven. She’s supposed to be sleeping.”

Wren yawns. “Twila?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you still stolen?”

Silence. I close my eyes. She means kidnapped. Kid hears too much.

Twila inhales slowly. “Apparently not.”

I open one eye.

Wren looks at me. “You let her go?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why’s she still here?”

Twila answers before I can. “Your daddy’s having trouble accepting his freedom.”

I stare at her.

Wren bursts out laughing. She reaches one hand toward Twila. “Can she sleep over?”

I choke on air.