So neither massive head injuries, nor finding out you’re a member of this family thirty freaking minutes ago-and therefore have very little experience handling weapons-gets you out of patrol?” I asked as I met Finley and Izzy by the backdoor.
After Aislinn had made her announcement, Mom had tried to argue on my behalf, saying that A) I was still processing the whole “being a Brannick” thing, and B) I had gone through a lot, so maybe I could use a nap. Or a snack.
Aislinn’s answer was to give me ten minutes to take a shower, some of Finley’s clothes, and a flask full of that Pine-Sol-tasting liquid.

Autore: Rachel Hawkins