Before Brittany got out of the car, she made sure all the windows were down a couple of inches. Not so much that people could stick their hands in, but just enough for good airflow. When she turned the key in the driver's door, she heard the locks click into place all around the car, but she walked around to double-check Ivy's door, like any responsible mother would.
She glanced at the tall gray van parked in the space to the right. It had those weird rock-star windows, mirrored so you couldn't see inside. It didn't look like the sort of ride that a rock star would be caught dead in, though; it was kind of faded with white lettering on the side. Talking Hands Ranch. Sounded like a camp for deaf kids. The mirrored windows were probably so people wouldn't make fun of the little boys and girls signing instead of talking.
Turning back to her car, she leaned down, moved her lips close to the opening at the top of the passenger window, and whispered, "Mama will be right back, Ivy Rose."
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish
Comment on this Bubble
Your comment and a link to this bubble will also appear in your Facebook feed.