Once the
two girls were settled in Sandra’s car, and the front door of the house had
closed, Sandra turned to Elizabeth
and handed her a piece of black fabric—a blindfold.
“What’s this for? I thought we were going to the mall.”
“Do you trust me?” Sandra asked as
she pulled out of the driveway.
“Of course, but—”
“Then put on the blindfold and stop
asking questions.”
Preferring to just trust Sandra than
feel her wrath, Elizabeth
tied the blindfold tight over her eyes.
“So we’re not going to the mall?”
“What did I just say?”
“Stop asking questions.”
“Good girl.” Sandra patted Elizabeth ’s arm. “And, no, we’re not going to the mall.”