Then Ms. Marzanna began talking to herself, or maybe singing to herself. Sonia did not recognize the language. Slavic? German? She laid out tools: kni...es of many sizes, a spoon with a serrated edge, and a great ceramic bowl. She picked up the largest knife and drove it into the roof of the pumpkin with a sick, juicy thunk. Lickety-split the old woman sawed a lid, pried it off, and began scraping the insides with the spoon. The moist scent of pumpkin entrails filled the kitchen. Sonia shifted in. "I'm afraid of losing you." You already lost me," Morgan growled. "You were warned multiple times that your antics were upsetting Bea and therefore upsetting me. Bea has been patient and kept telling me that you just needed one more day, but after tonight's outburst, I'm not willing to give you another chance. You can stay the night, since it's already late, but I expect you to pack your bags and leave in the morning."Morgan shoved Becky towards the hallway leading to the bedrooms. The woman. More

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