23. Newsflash
Oh, right. The dead body.
“I… I can explain?”
It comes out like a question. Then I have to back it up like a fact, if only because no one else has anything to say to interrupt me.
“This stuff I have… the stuff the Swan infected me with, it’s been getting hard to control.”
I’ve had better excuses for getting caught in my mom’s candy stash as a kid.
“Please tell me,” says Sophie, her blank, coping voice barely holding, “tell me you didn’t do this for me.”
“I didn’t,” I answer quickly, so glad to have something true to say that she wants to hear that I don’t stop to realize how much worse this makes it. “I did it for me.”
“Why?” She’s wiping the blood off her fingers onto her jeans, without taking her eyes off me. “What did he do to you? I knew he didn’t like you, I mean
