"Am I a bad person, Richard?" Sheryl asked as her mouth emptied of smoke.
"Hmm? Why do you ask?" Richard murmured, his chin hovering just above her right ear.
Sheryl took another drag from her cigarette and released the smoke slowly. As it diffused into the air, she continued, "I've done a lot of bad things in my life, Richard—things I can't forgive myself for." Her eyes were half-closed, her tone languid, so it was hard to tell if she was fully in her right mind.
Richard slid his fingers between hers. He smiled. "Of course not, Sheryl. You're a beautiful woman with a heart of gold. You'd do anything for money—but who doesn't like money?"
"How flattering," Sheryl said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
The room was lit only by a lamp, the bed wide enough to fit four people.
