“Now, girls, be kind. Celia would want you to be kind,” Hattie whispered.

“My Gran preferred I stuck up for myself,” I said. “Especially against bullies.”

Missy pushed to her feet, using that wretched stick, her eyes on me even as she spoke to Hattie. With a bit of a hobble, she walked around the table, keeping it between us as though she didn’t want to be any closer to me than I did to her.

“I’ll ring you tomorrow, Hattie. We can finish our conversation then,” Missy said. I watched as Hattie visibly withered under her gaze.

“Of course. I’ll be here.” Hattie waited until Missy was gone before blowing out a slow breath and lowering herself into one of the folding chairs. I matched her movements, moving carefully so as to not knock over the rickety table that was holding up the pitcher of sweet tea.

“Have some.” Hattie waved a hand at the pitcher.

“Missy probably poisoned it while you were getting the door,” I said with a laugh. Hattie didn’t laugh with me.

Instead, she poured a glass for herself and then poured it onto the grass. A hiss rose through the air, smoke curling from the liquid. My jaw dropped. “I was just kidding. Hattie, you can’t let her come back!” What the hell had happened since Gran had died to put these two at such odds?

Again, she waved a hand at me. “This is not new. She wants me to agree with her, and I don’t. She’s getting desperate if she’s using . . . well, again, never mind. Tell me why you’re here. What brought you home?” Her face changed in an instant, lighting up. “I’ve missed you, more since your gran passed . . .” She closed her eyes and a tear leaked out of one, sliding down her cheek.

I sighed and tried not to get caught up in my own emotions. “I’m divorced. And I had nowhere else to go.” And it was time to come home. I didn’t say that, but I knew it in my gut.

“The city called to you.” She bobbed her head, then leaned back in her chair, which made me tense. They were the same chairs that I remembered from my last visits, over two decades ago, and they’d been cheap then. “This is home.”

I nodded. “Hattie, I’ve got a job, but I could use some guidance.”

“Tell me, darling girl,” she said. “Tell me.”

So, I did. I told her about Himself, everything he’d taken from me, and his plan to sell Gran’s house. I told her about staying with Corb, the interview with Hollows Group, and the crappy weapons.

She listened quietly through it all, letting me vent. I finally ran out of steam, and she pursed her lips, no doubt wondering just what I’d gotten myself into.