There was a redhead a story up, in a blue dress and combing out her wet hair by the window. Her face was painted, earrings in and necklace clad. Her head lifted suddenly at Anne’s approach of the Diamond Pony, and the curtain pulled.

What was Anne doing here? She grabbed a pair of white heels that she never would have paired with the dress if not for rushing. Ran down the stairs, ran down the street toward where she suspected Anne would most likely be headed: Anne’s home.

Uncle Ben be damned: she had to see her!