“Don’t you remember me,” she asked. “You always seemed so kind.”
Who, me? But hazy recollections of a long-ago adventure were returning. “Glenda!” I exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
“A tornado hit Emerald City. My sister and I landed here, destitute. I am came to the only person here I know, hoping for help.”
“But where is your sister?”
“She’s a star on Broadway now. It pays to be Wicked,”