“Car parts and shrapnel flew in every direction as a fireball rolled out and upward. After what might have been an eternity, but was maybe only a half a second, the car debris rained down as the side of the bridge near her car started caving toward the water. Huh. Bombs can still tick. Valuable little piece of information there. “Ooooooooh,” Francesca singsang, sounding like she did back in fifth grade when she ratted Bobbie Faye out for selling those Popsicles made of holy water. “The mayor’s g...onna have a heart attack.” “Again,” Bobbie Faye agreed. “Maybe you can send him an apology?” “Yeah, because I’m sure there’s a Hallmark card for that somewhere: sorry about the bridge, please don’t die.” A piece of the bridge fell into the bayou below. “I wonder if they sell postage stamps in prison?” Bobbie Faye’s ears rang, and the arched structure shook as she and Francesca got unsteadily to their feet.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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