"I know," she said, looking down at her jello cup. "I read your cut."
Cut, not vest?
"You familiar with motorcycle clubs?" I asked.
"Not really," she shrugged.
Hmm, interesting.
"You got someone you want to call?" I asked her. "Parents? Siblings? Anyone worried about you?"
"No."
She's smart enough to answer only what I ask and not give me more. She must have some kind of past that taught her that. Or maybe she just really loves jello.
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-four."
Much older than I was guessing. That's interesting. And she has no one I need to get in touch with?
"You got a job you need to call? A pet to take care of? A place that got left abandoned? Anything we need to do for you while you're resting?"
"Nope," she replied, popping the p before opening her fourth jello cup
