“Hey,” Mike called to her as if they stood yards apart not inches.
“Hey, yourself.” Holly was still trying to figure out what the numbers meant. Miranda clearly knew. Maybe it was some sort of a secret code.
“No, Holly. Look around.”
She did. They were in the lap of an obscene amount of luxury and religious fervor. None of which surprised her. Well, maybe a little. She’d spent too many years in battle zones where the religious fervor was highest where abject poverty ruled.
Bitch Clarissa, Drake, and a Chinese general who she didn’t recognize were nattering away like they were old friends. The four stars on the jacket draped over the back of the elderly Chinese man’s chair matched Drake’s, so that was fine. Let the four-stars do whatever it was that four-stars did.
Susan and Sadie sat
