Faster and faster they went. The wind pushed Sally’s lips open and whipped Lavinia’s hair against her eyes. Hard streets and buildings raced up at them. She had faced death but, terrified of heights, she screamed, buried her face against Lavinia’s shoulder and shut her eyes tight.

Any lingering presence of KerriAnne was lost, lost, lost.

A heavy surge sent blood rushing to her feet. Heart pounding, she opened her eyes, furious with herself.

Lavinia still headed at that exact 4.8-degree angle north of east, but now she skimmed the highest rooftops, and pulsed upward to avoid smashing into the side of Twin Peaks. A minute later, they were over the Bay.

“Jesus Christ!” Sally blurted. Thank the goddess she’d emptied her bladder just before they took off!

Lavinia pulled herself together to gasp, “Got it, got it!” She started to say something else, but looked away, muttered, “Fliegt heim, ihr Raben. Fly away home,” and disappeared into undulating sexuality again.

Fly away home. Ladybug, ladybug…

KerriAnne had somehow given Lavinia what she needed. A parting gift.

She couldn’t help crying. But whatever had happened to KerriAnne, it was infinitely better than the bleak despair she’d seen at the plaza.

“Thank you, Darling,” she whispered to the little sister who would never call her “Boss” again.

♦

Jesse Casselberger woke from exhausted sleep, to his husband’s voice from the kitchen quietly arguing with Malcolm. He hurried out still dressed; he’d never fallen asleep in his clothes before.

Charla and Tomás sat facing away from each other at the kitchen table, two lonely islands. Walter turned to him with worry on his face. “What’s wrong, Buttercup?” he asked quietly. Jesse shrugged helplessly.

Walter studied him, eyes probing, questioning.

Then he turned back to Malcolm. “Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll be the one to perform for the crowd today. No reason not to.” He looked at Jesse again. “No reason to hide what I am.”

Jesse felt a chill go through his heart.

“Attaboy,” Malcolm said.