Sylvia. Being led away in handcuffs. By a couple of big guys with guns. I swear, if this was a cartoon, there would have been an angel chorus singing in the background and bluebirds of happiness tweeting out their hallelujahs around my head. Unfortunately, before I ever had a chance to fully appreciate the beauty of the moment, my conscience kicked in. Damn conscience. Naturally, my curiosity followed right behind. I knew it wasn’t smart to interfere with anything as official as an arrest, but I couldn’t help myself. I darted over to where Sylvia—so stunned, each of her steps was as wooden as a zombie’s—was being led away. “Sylvia, what the—” It wasn’t any big surprise when I was stopped in my tracks by another big guy with a gun who’d apparently come along with the other two just in case someone like me tried to make a scene. “Stand back, ma’am.” “I will. But—” Since he had a hand out at chest level and a no-nonsense look in his beady brown eyes, it wasn’t like I was about to argue.
