snapped Mr. Jennings. The little car buzzed as it zoomed down the street. “Hanging!” The scant window frame didn’t give her much to cling to. Ingrid looked out the back window. The Durendal was close enough for her to discern the individual soldiers that lined the walled running boards on either side of the armored ambulatory. Who knew how many were inside? Releasing her death grip on her door, she stuffed the hat and its contents behind her cloth belt. The hard corner of the planner gouged at her belly. The car took another sharp turn, and Ingrid squealed as she slid across the seat and right into Mr. Jennings. “Some warning?” she snapped. “I said to hold on!” “To what?” “Me, if nothing else!” No time for that as he took another fast turn and sent her sliding the other way. She felt his leg kick out and brush her hip as he shifted as well. He glanced at her. “Look at it this way—could be worse. Could be an Ambassador back there.” “How do you know there’s not?”
