She forces a breath between her teeth. “I shielded Elise from alot… maybe too much. And now, I don’t know if this was agood idea. Making her work for some farmer in anothercountry? It sounds like something a wicked stepmother in agothic novel would do, doesn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t know much about wicked stepmothers,” I say.“But concerned older sisters who are doing their best? I have
I smirk. “Well, I’ve found her very… flexible.”
“Oh God,” she groans. “You’re making this a s*x joke.”
“Tell me to stop and I will,” I say.
She smiles, but doesn’t say anything. We both know she likesit just fine.
We’re halfway up the long road to the house when a figureleaps off the porch and starts jogging towards us. For a second,I don’t recognize who it is
