Chapter 42: Anastasia

Mary’s breath smells of peppermint and cold tea. I expect her to shout but her voice is in a raspy hiss that barely carries over the drumming of the rain against the roof of the black SUV parked beside us. She stands between my hip and the handle of my driver’s side door, her folded black umbrella held like a barrier across the metal panel.

"You think because you found a man with a flatbed truck to stand next to you, the rules of this institution don't apply to your family, Anastasia?" Mary asks.

She looks down at Luna, who is pressed against my left thigh, her...