Gretchen made her way to Spinelli’s apartment and knocked on the door rather forcefully. She’d hoped that some time would help it all blow over, but she was still getting radio silence from her best friend. At least she came bearing gifts. In the week or so it had been since the discovery of the truth, she’d gotten something special worked out for Spinelli, something Gretchen hoped would keep her friend from being violent with her. The other gift was in her hand, a small thumbdrive that was close to being crushed in her fist if she clutched it any tighter. Waiting for Spinelli to open the door was like arriving at the circus all over again. Except this time she knew there would be anger. And Flynn wasn’t there to hide the kitchen knives or the toaster.
