“Is it a blender?”
“No,” he says, waving that off.
“It’s a blender,” I tell Kane.
“Okay, it’s a damn blender,” Andrew says, “But Mom said, when they have everything, give them a blender.”
I laugh and tell Kane, “She did say that.”
“There’s this, too,” Andrew says, offering us another box. “That was at the station. The tag got knocked off. I think it’s from one of the guys. I hope you can figure it out after you open it.”
An uneasy feeling settles in my belly and that same energy crackles off Kane. He takes the box and opens it, lifting the lid. Inside is a note. A familiar kind of note. A note from Junior that reads:
Ding dong, the queen is born. The queen is born. Ding dong, the queen is born, the queen is dead.
THE END