(Malory)
So this must be how I die.
I’ve willingly let the criminal –possible murderer- into my house for the second time.
We go straight to the living room.
I drop onto my couch, resting my feet on the coffee table, and I cross my arms, looking up at him sternly. “Spill. I don’t know where you’re going to start, but start talking.”
He sits on the arm of the couch and sighs. “Let’s start with what you know.”
Ah. That’s a good place.
I sit up straighter. “Okay. Who was she? That girl. Aside from being the girl you obviously loved –and had… intimate relations with. Why did you have to…” I hesitate, “…kill her? Why did she… do it herself? To protect you? Was she… was she really a s*x slave? Why would you involve yourself with a girl like that? And who the hell is Ace?”
