Page 45 of Into the Mist

“Jesus Christ,” said Imani.

Mercury shook her head. “This is horrible for Gemma. Should we wake her up? Maybe she can catch her stupid mom and stop her.”

“And what if her stupid mom doesn’t stop? Or stops only until the next time Gemma’s asleep?” Imani blew out a long, disgusted breath. “No. Let the child sleep. Maybe Sadie will get a clue and come back—before someone worse than that douchebag who tried to take your truck gets a chance at her.”

Mercury stared down at the envelope in her hands. “God, I hate that I have to give the kid the letter that will basically tell her she’s an orphan.”

Imani gently took the envelope from her. “I’ll do it. Sadie was right about one thing. I’ll be here for her child.”

Mercury met Imani’s eyes and felt a rush of compassion for her friend. “Gemma said it best last night. You’re a really good mom.”

“Being there for your babies isn’t being a really good mom. It’s justbeing a mom.”

“Still. You’re a really good mom.”

“Thanks.” Imani folded the envelope and put it in the pocket of her jeans, which Mercury realized were clean—along with the thick “BLM” sweatshirt that actually fit her, unlike the giant lumberjack PJs Mercury was still wearing.

“Wait, where’d you get real clothes?”

“Oh, my luggage was being stored at the bellhop station while I was hiking. I got it when Stella woke up. I didn’t really sleep much last night. But you have clothes in the room. Stella’s been up forever. She went out to the truck when it was barely dawn and brought back a big bag she’d filled with stuff for you guys. She even found something not too hideous for Gemma to wear. Everything is on the couch in the sitting room of the suite.” Imani gave her an appraising look. “You, Gemma, and Karen could probably sleep through the next apocalypse. You didn’t so much as twitch when Stella dragged all that stuff in.”

“Oh yeah. My ability to sleep deeply is a gift. I’ll bet Gemma and Karen’s is a gift given to them by Bordeaux.”

“Ha! Gemma wasn’t drunk. The child quit drinking because she said she had to check on ‘her patients.’” Imani made air quotes. “But you’re totally right about Karen. Girlfriend cannot handle her booze.”

“That’s the truth.” Mercury peered down the gloomy hallway. “What time is it? It looks like it’s still dark.”

“Actually, it’s midmorning, but dark as hell. And it stinks like a nasty burn pile outside.”

“Shit. That can’t be good, but it’s not exactly a surprise. The number of bombs we saw was terrifying, and that many—and the fires they cause—have got to affect the atmosphere.”

“I just hope there’s nothing worse up there in those clouds than ash and crap like that,” said Imani.

“What about the green stuff?”

Imani shrugged. “I haven’t been outside. I’m not a damn fool.”

“Where’s Stella now?”

Imani jerked her chin in the direction of the foyer. “She’s made breakfast, set up lunch, and finished the stew, which she says will last for dinner today and at least tomorrow. I think she’s taking inventory of all the food now. I tried to help, but she said that I’m not a very good sous chef and shooed me away.”

“She’s pretty picky about her kitchen help,” said Mercury. “Took me years to get a passing grade from her.”

Imani shrugged. “I’m not complaining. I can make my auntie’s biscuits. That’s about the extent of my kitchen expertise. Curtis is the cook in the family.” Her face went soft with the memory, and Imani smiled as she spoke. “He loves the kitchen. Curtis can cook anything. His favorite is to make an elaborate breakfast spread on Sundays while I sleep in—with fresh-squeezed OJ for my mimosas. He calls it our family brunch and…” Imani’s words fizzled out. Tears spilled down her warm beige cheeks. “Called, notcalls. I have to start thinking of him in the past tense.”

There were no words that would end Imani’s grief, so Mercury pulled her friend into her arms and let her sob.

“Um, you guys okay out there?”

They jumped at Gemma’s voice. She’d cracked the door and was watching them with concerned moss-green eyes.

Imani stepped out of Mercury’s arms and hastily wiped her face with the sleeves of her sweatshirt. “Sorry—we didn’t mean to wake you.”

Gemma yawned. “That’s okay. I’m starved. Hey, uh, there’re clothes and stuff piled on the couch. Would anyone care if I borrowed something? What I wore yesterday is super gross.”

“Stella found some clothes for you. I’ll show you,” said Imani. “But first we need to talk.”

“Who died?” Gemma switched from teenager to healer in a breath. “Come on. Show me what clothes are for me. I need to give Doc Hilary some backup. She’ll be real upset if another—”