Brendan FallsChapter 25
"Are you really going to castrate Wren, Mistress?" I asked her over dinner. "Why yes," Miss Corinne replied in her Mississippi accent, sweet and sing-song. "I most certainly am, Danielle." "Oh," I nodded. We were sitting on the roof, fifty stories up in the middle of Memphis, which seemed awfully high to me. Much of it was covered by a large canopy, almost like a circus tent, but open and airy, and the pastel canvas snapped high above our heads in the late evening breeze. It was...