“I’m in the bathroom.”
“I know you’re in the bathroom. It’s time to getoutof the bathroom.” She walks toward the stairs.
“God, could you be any more annoying?” Erin mutters, flinging open the bathroom door as Maggie reaches the upstairs landing, a blur of waist-length, light brown hair and long bare legs brushing past her down the hall.
“Probably,” Maggie says as she enters her bedroom and opens the top drawer of the nightstand beside the bed. She reaches inside and extricates the Glock 19, turning it over in the palm of her hand and admiring it before dropping it inside her large canvas bag.
One of the reasons Maggie chose Florida is that it’s considered “accommodating” regarding guns, the state policy being one of “shall issue” for a concealed carry license. This means it’s legal to carry a concealed weapon and relatively easy to get a license to do so. Which Maggie did, filling out the necessary forms and submitting them, along with her fingerprints and a recent photograph, to Tallahassee for a background check, then waiting five days to receive her permit.
She completed the three-hour-long obligatory course in firearms training within a week of buying the gun. And she’s been carrying it with her ever since.
Just in case, one day, it becomes necessary to use it.