"…and he said that I had weeks," Shane finished, pacing her attic. From her worry, the attic had been cleaned and recleaned, swept until the broom wore grooved into the wooden floor. Things were moving in directions over which Shane felt she had no control. Confessing this all
"You do," replied Girl, nibbling on a sandwich. "Those guys are such pain, but they say what they mean to say. Good thing for not putting the coat on though, one is enough. So, yeah, weeks."
Shane eyes turned an icier blue looking at Girl. The air chilled in sympathy. "What?"
Girl reached for another ladyfinger, this one made of peanut butter, bananas and marshmallow fluff. Shane had resisted unlikely allure of this fare. "More like a month," Girl amended, sounding optimistic, "Three weeks at the very least. Wars have been fought in less time."
"Then what?"
Girl just looked at her for a while, her head tilted like a curious dog. "Then… you don't have to worry. Things are being taken care of. Trust me, I won't let anything happen to you so late in the game. I've got plan well under way, Shaney. Flu like plans."
Shane knelt before Girl, pronouncing very carefully. She cared about Girl, but needed to know they were both in the same world and on the same page. "Is this still a game?"
Girl kissed Shane on the forehead, leaving a stick mark from her marshmallow lips. "Honestly kiddo, it never stops being a game if you do it right. And if you do it wrong, there is no fun in it at all."
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