Gilda

Gilda Griffon ran her fingers through her short cropped white hair. “We are so screwed.”

Sitting on the bench beside her, Lightning Dust groaned, her face buried in her hands. “I can’t believe it wasn’t her. I was so certain. I would’ve bet my life on it!”

“Crap. Don’t know what we’re gonna do. There were so many people there. Someone’s gonna squeal. It’s inevitable. Gonna happen.” Gilda face palmed.

“We are so screwed,” she repeated.