Chapter Thirty-Six
Fuck.
How did she find out? Will she tell the government? How much trouble would Art and I get into?
I picture Art deported. I picture lawyers. Jail.
Skunking skunk.
Black Swan is still staring daggers at me.
What do I do? What the f**k do I do?
Denial. Yes, that’s my best and only strategy.
I’m stuttering only slightly as I say, “I have no idea what you mean.”
Black Swan takes a menacing step toward me and sticks her hand into her purse.
Shit. Am I about to be stabbed with a shard of glass?
She pulls out a piece of paper.
Hmm. In China, there used to be a torture method called “death by a thousand cuts.” Does she want to do that to me with the edges of that sheet?
She thrusts the paper into my unsteady hands. “Here. This why you not his wife.”
With that, s
