“You told me Miriam was dead,” Jenna announced as she shoved her way through the crowded café toward my table. “I just saw her on the High Street.” She stood over me, hands on hips, her face frowning.
“I meant figuratively.” I pushed my empty plate away and wiped my mouth. “But it’s okay; we made up.”
“And what am I supposed to do with the six-foot hole I just dug in the woods?”
I met her gaze. “You didn’t.”
Jenna gestured to her soil-stained t-shirt. “Guess again.”
I picked up my coffee and sipped. “Actually, I know just the person.”