The Flour Girl
Their laughter, which should have reassured me, only frightened me more, because I fit it into my story as the unnerving calm of people who were not what they seemed.
There is almost nothing that a frightened, committed mind cannot twist to fit its fear.
It took the plain physical fact of flour on my tongue to finally break the spell.
Chapter 21 — My Little Flour Girl
“Jacqueline,” I said, fighting to keep my composure, “I have been standing up here for the better part of an hour, absolutely convinced that my mother-in-law was running some kind of secret operation out of my future home office.
So I am going to need somebody to tell me, in plain words, what is in these bags.”