“Well, it was good stew,” Chichi said, picking at her teeth with a pinky finger.

“They make good ogbono soup, too,” Sunny said. “With chicken.”

“They just need to do some remodeling,” Chichi said. “At least a sign for the place. Word of mouth can only go so far.”

The sun was setting, but the heat of the day seemed intent on staying. The pepper soup Sunny had eaten was extra spicy. Not tainted-pepper spicy that left her tongue and mouth tingly while enhancing the flavor of everything else she ate, just a normal type of spicy that warmed every part of her and cleared out her sinuses. This warmth mixed with the heat of outside made her feel a little dizzy.

As soon as they walked to the side of the shack, the chatter from the filled dining room receded. The grass here was tall and unkempt, a narrow path through it roughly hacked. When they got to the back, the grass was shorter. Sunny expected to see Grashcoatah at work here making the grass even shorter, but he was nowhere in sight.

On the back of the shack was a large door with garbage bags on both sides of it. The door was ajar, and Sunny heard the clink and splash of cutlery, cups, and dishes being washed. There was a small clearing of dirt directly behind the shack where a large thick wooden table sat. Behind the table were three red outhouses with tin roofs. And behind the outhouses, more trees and bushes grew.

“Disgusting,” Chichi said, stepping up to the large table. It was slick with congealing and dried blood, bits of meat (there was even a chopped-off paw), and milling flies. “I hope this isn’t where they cut the meat they use in the restaurant.”

“It probably is,” Sunny said, the food in her belly rolling.

Chichi picked up the grasscutter paw and held it up.

“Ugh!” Sunny said “How can you touch th—”

Click. Click, clack, click.

Chichi looked past Sunny and her eyes grew wide. “Oh my God.”

Sunny stared at the source of the clicking. Then she quickly slapped the grasscutter paw out of Chichi’s hand. But really it was a useless gesture. If the oily-looking black vultures with wingspans wider than her height standing on top of the outhouses had wanted the paw, they’d have taken it long ago. There were five in all. The click-clacking sound was their talons on the tin roofs of the outhouses as they moved around.

“They’re probably here for the meat when they are chopping it up,” Sunny said. “Disgusting, lazy birds. I’ll bet they live here, scavenging off of whatever the restaurant people throw away.” She shook her head and started to step away. “I’m going to go pee in the bushes. I’m not going near those vultures, let alone those nasty outhouses. I can smell them from . . .”

“Sunny,” Chichi said. And that’s when Sunny noticed that Chichi wasn’t even looking at the vultures. She was looking toward the trees. As Sunny turned her eyes in that direction, she felt every hair on her body stand up. There was a ringing in her ears and pressure on her face. Sunny’s nostrils flared. She smelled smoke. A very specific type of smoke.