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Summary
Robin tried to remember how she had danced around the Christmas tree when she was eight. She had tripped on air, tumbling into the tree and causing it to collide with the cold wooden floor the Buckley’s had in their living room. Half of the glass decorations had broken beyond repair and her mom had shouted at her. Robin wasn’t sure her mom ever stopped shouting after that. Whenever she did stop shouting, it was to give backhanded compliments or flat out insult her daughter.
That was what she was thinking off as Nancy’s gun ran out of bullets. Three frightened faces looking at the weapon. Reloading would take a few seconds, a few seconds they definitely didn’t have.
OR
Robin is stupid, gets injured and Nancy takes care of her.
