Stacy’s eyes went round as two quarters. “What should we do?”
“I don’t know,” Jodi repeated. She began turning in place while Stacy clung to one of her belt loops. The combination of her poor eyesight and slow, steady circling changed the faces of those around them into garish clowns—mouths too wide, cheeks too red, voices too loud, eyes too bright. Jodi stopped. “Let go.” She pulled Stacy’s fingers from her belt loop, only to have her younger sister take hold of the end of her tee shirt.
Jodi gave an exasperated sigh, but when she saw her fear reflected back at her in Stacy’s eyes, she tried to ignore her enough to concentrate. She put her hands over her ears, squeezing her eyes shut.
“Don’t. Jodi, don’t.” Stacy tugged on her shirt, her voice shaking.