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Ya-Ya's Drabble Corner

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They’re as unlikely a pair as they come: an ex-junkie grifter and the cop who’s busted her more times than she can count. Sarah doesn’t know why she agreed to this. Childs saving her from her shithead ex doesn’t make up for what a pain in the ass she’s been, even if Sarah’s pretty sure that this time, Vic would have killed her. If Sarah thought her life had any value, well, she sure as hell would have made some different choices.

And yet, here she is, driving across the country with a cop, on some quest to find and pick up the pieces of their lives, to fix what they broke, to say the things they should have said years ago, Sarah to her brother, Beth to her mother. At least that’s the excuse, the story they can tell later when people ask them if they’d lost their minds. It’s more noble, isn’t it? Running toward something rather than away from it.

The car’s engine stops, waking Sarah in the passenger seat. They’ve pulled into a rest area.

“Hey, sunshine,” Beth smirks. “Just gonna grab a few things. Need anything?”

“Mm,” Sarah grumbles, shaking her head.

Beth reaches into the back seat for her purse and fishes out her wallet. She grabs the door handle, then pauses. She falls back into her seat and pulls out a couple of bills before throwing her wallet onto the dash.

“There’s a couple hundred in there,” she says. “Keys in the ignition.”

Sarah eyes her warily.


“I won’t report it,” Beth continues. “I won’t come after you. But if you’re gonna do it, just do it now, before… before it gets complicated.”

Sarah’s instinct is to yell, to ask her where the hell she gets off. Then she sees Beth’s face. The one constant in all their conversations is that Beth has always looked Sarah in the eye, yet now she can’t manage it, instead staring off at some point outside the front window, a vulnerability Sarah’s never seen before. It’s enough of a shock that Sarah can’t get the words out before Beth is out the door. As soon as she’s out of sight, Sarah grabs the wallet and pockets forty bucks, throwing up a couple fingers in Beth’s general direction.

The door opens again a few minutes later.

“You’re a bloody mess, you know that?” Sarah says.

Beth grins, falling into her seat and tossing a bag into the back.

“That makes two of us, bitch,” she says and starts the car.