“Oh, I beg to differ. I’m the queen of outrunning. Olympic gold champion.”
Jas flicks me in the ear. “Outrunning your feelings, maybe. Outrunning me? You wish, Miss Ish.” She stands, sunlight catching the silver streaks in her hair. “I need help with something out back. Get dressed.”
“The kind that involves sunlight and not brooding in your stank-smelling cave all day long.” She tosses a pair of Kosti’s old overalls at me. They land with a thwap. “Wear these. You’ll thank me when the rat snakes show up.”
The “something” turns out to be a quarter-acre of weeds behind the villa that Jasmine has decided, in her infinite optimism, will become a vegetable garden. Does it matter to her that we’ll be gone in ten weeks and therefore will not be here when these things bear fruit? No, it does not
