CHAPTER 5
its flavor, but Mary’s still chew- _ nervously, in the backseat of . The girl sitting up front next She’s chain-smoking menthols. filthy and gross. Worried that Mary sits on her hands. Then, zigantic resort called the Break- hed, not quite real— like some-
yntrast. says to the girl in the passenger
nall.”
wants to say something about 1t,
orem pe TREE
arty e
Firtuy Ricu
but she doesn’t know if the other girls would even respond. Wen-
dy’s always seemed so much cooler than kids Mary's age. This other girl’s just a mystery. And when Wendy does turn around to speak to Mary, her stare seems to slice right through the younger girl.
“Remember,” Wendy says, according to a probable cause affi- davit filed by the Palm Beach police. “When he asks how old you are, say eighteen.”
The light changes, and Wendy turns back around but keeps looking at Mary in the rearview mirror.
“Got it?” |
Mary nods.
“| mean it,” says Wendy.
Who would believe her? Anyone can see that Mary is younger than that.
“Okay,” she says. “I got it. Eighteen.”
Mary takes out her flip phone and sends Joe a text: “Your cousin is a BAMF.”
A badass motherfucker.
There’s no reply.
“Or maybe she’s just a bitch,” Mary texts.
Still no reply.
Joe must still be in church, Mary thinks.
They pass El Bravo Way and turn onto El Brillo Way.
Wendy’s driving slowly now, right at the speed limit. Once more, she says: “When the man asks your age, say eighteen.”
Mary nods again and smiles, slightly. She wants Wendy to see her smiling. To know that she’s got it all under control. But Wendy's eyes are on the front gate now. It opens, she parks, and they walk past a guard.
15
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