#Chapter98
In the history of bad ideas, this one had to take the cake.
Jittering, heart thump-a-dump-dumping manically against my chest, the pep talk I was trying to drill into myself didn't seem to be working. The tips of my fingers were like ice blocks, red and unresponsive, but my palms, tucked into the fabric of the fingerless gloves, felt like they were sweating.
I had no fucking reason to be scared, but as I stood before the cuckoo little shop, I couldn't help the way my stomach flipped. The sign seemed to glare at me, mocking my cowardice, but common sense roared at me to take off in the opposite direction.
Ha. Fucking. Had. When have I ever listened to common sense?
