“There was no other Mickey perched there watching, prompting words the nice Mickey would never say. There was only one Mickey here— the Mickey she wanted to be— and it was about time to let her loose.”
I’m not sure, as recently as a year ago, if this would have been amongst my favorite of Elmore’s. But it is now. I get Mickey. I love Mickey. The fact that she forms the unlikely friendship with Louis— without the cliche slide into romance— is only one of the many reasons I love her. And by extension, why I love the way Elmore writes.