“Our side or theirs? Ooh!” Jack shook the conference room blinds in his excitement. “Another bus!” Kyle peeked past me. “‘College of’ something? On that guy’s sweatshirt?” “Our side,” I crowed, doing a quick guesstimate of the teeming masses across the street. “That makes two fifty for us, a hundred for them. Lame.” “Hmmm.” Sophie pointed at the young bus riders, now hoisting cheerfully hateful posters as they joined the crowd nearest the school. “College of the Redeemer. Church group.” Jack’s face went pale. He turned from the window with a pinched smile. “I’m just glad Reverend Tom hasn’t shown up. He’d probably expect me to picket with him.” “Whoa.” Kyle’s eyes darted upward. “Sorry. Was that a helicopter?” “Yes!” I laughed. “Because the only way to get all of our supporters in a picture is to photograph them from the air.
