They didn’t talk about it much, but Mike had been through some eerily similar foster homes in Florida, the where he was born. “I can’t imagine it,” said Miss Miniver. ‘Have no fear,’ he uttered soothingly, reaching out to pat her free hand. Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. I didn’t understand. ‘But how do you come here?’ ‘Down on a routine patrol, unluckily for you,’ he answered grimly. It’s that father of yours you take after, no question. She painted on the Root Beer Lip Smackers lip gloss that Shari had bought her last Christmas and rouged her cheeks as she had long ago as she once had for Sebastian. Neither of them joined in the applause which followed upon her exit.
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