“You heard what I said,” she repeated in a hard, immaculate voice.
Jim and Mona’s friends were like trolls stoned by dawn’s light. They avoided direct eye contact. They kept their eyes pinned on the final trick, as though the Queen of Spades and Jack of Hearts, grinning up at them with their Mona Lisa half-smiles, were tarot cards foreboding some imminent doom. Why did this have to happen tonight? That’s what they must have been thinking, Jim reasoned, sitting there helplessly in their Chewbacca and Stormtrooper outfits, like witnesses to a mob hit.