I might have gone on, following up the order with a threat or two, but just then a large black sedan turned into the parking lot. It crept over the yellow speed bumps that hazarded the asphalt, signaled with a flashing left blinker, and pulled into the empty space next to the Death Nugget. I held a hand up to shield my eyes from its blazing headlights. I’d almost decided to retreat to the comfort of my room when the lights switched off and the back right door opened.

Eliza Dufresne emerged, short and crooked, from the shiny black vehicle. Harry offered me a shy half wave from the driver’s seat, but he cut the engine and remained where he was.

“Girl,” Tatie addressed me. “Girl, I want to talk to you.”

“Go on.” I made a show of sheathing the long blade at my left side. Her eyes widened a touch, but she didn’t ask about it.

“I want you to come on back to the house with me.”

“Do you, now?” I smirked and leaned against the frame, neither in welcome nor in refusal.” When’d you get bit by the hospitality bug?”

“Girl, I think it’d be a good idea if you did. I don’t think you’re safe here. Come on back to the big house with us.”

She couldn’t be serious. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll take my chances here.”

I do believe Tatie wanted to stomp her little feet in rage, but she bit it back. “Girl,” she said it as a growl this time, “you come on back with me now. I can let you have one of the big old guest rooms. There’s plenty of space for you.”

“As I said, ma’am, thank you, but no. I’m already settled in here, and I’m not of a mind to leave.”

“Dammit, girl, you come on!”

“No.” I liked this game. This was fun.

“And why not? I’m offering you family privileges, an’ here you are being an ingrate.”

I couldn’t hold my smile back any longer. “At least I’m not trying to milk you for your money like the rest of them mixed-breed illegitimates who want family privileges. Thank you kindly, Tatie, but I’m staying here.”

Her wrinkly arms folded together, pulling a cable-knit sweater more tightly around her shoulders. “How come?”

“How come?” I repeated after her, still laughing on the inside with disbelief at the absurdity of it all. To be tactful, or not to be tactful? I went with the latter. “Because I don’t trust you. No offense intended.”

She nodded as if we’d reached some minor understanding, and it was good. “None taken. But since we’re speaking plain, tell me why not.”