"I think she's dead."
Amy shook her head vigorously. "No she's not dead…I think."
Sitting in the recliner before Amy and Lauren was Nana Marin, closed eyed with a silver flask gripped tightly in her left hand.
Lauren snorted. "As much as she drinks, I wouldn't be surprised if she were."
"She's breathing! The flask's still in her hand!"
"Should we take that?"
"If you want to die." The old woman croaked.
The girls stared at Nana Marin's still closed eyes.
"Should we go?"
Lauren nodded. "Let's go."
Amy grabbed Lauren's hand and quickly dragged her from the living room.