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They moved to the front of the plane separately.
She sent Tim ahead well in the lead.
Standing alone in the dark and the roar at the rear of the plane, Lola tried to convince herself it had merely been s*x after all. Much needed s*x.
She’d have been able to convince herself if she couldn’t hear the memory of Mama Raci’s cackle. A fifteen-year-old Lola had asked her about love.
“It is de woman’s power to take de mind from de mon. She can make de mon stone blind until he see no one but she. It is de mon’s power to take de woman’s heart until she can no find it nowheres else but in him’s arms.”
Lola cursed the crazy old woman who had become her only family. Cursed her for her coarse ways, her harsh love, and for dying when Lola still needed her so badly.
Game face, Lola. Game face.
