“Please tell me I’m not going to turn! God, I wouldn’t know what to do.” Heather turned to her friend with tears in her eyes. “I know it’s not your fault. Truly. But I’m scared for you, Liz. You don’t know what these people are like. I didn’t want to tell you when I heard your dad talking to Wolven yesterday. I just wanted to run away and hide. But I couldn’t leave you. Not like this.” Liz’s face was a study in amazement—probably very similar to my own when Bobby first talked to me about stu...ff I couldn’t grasp. “What are you talking about, Heather? What is Wolven? And who in the world brought in Chinese food just now? I didn’t even know we had a takeout restaurant in town.” Chinese? I took a sniff and suddenly understood. She related to emotions the same way as me . . . by comparing them to things I could understand. To me, fear smells like hot-and-sour soup. I wished there was an easier way to break this to her.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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