Peyton sipped her drink through the straw and watched Jake as he explained what had happened to him. Admittedly, the mental image of a den of squirrels falling on his head was amusing, and it explained the tiny bits of white dust all over him. Her lips quirked around her straw before she glanced down at his clothes and shook her head.
"It's just plaster," Peyton said as she set her glass aside and reached for another fry, "and probably tiny bits of squirrel poop. And who knows what else. What happened to the squirrels? You didn't kill them, did you?"