Cloe frowns at me and looks around the train, but even after my outburst no one seems interested in us. Her voice goes low, to practically a whisper, like she can make up for my mistake through overcompensation. “They don’t kill anyone. They get their little brother to do it for them. He turns people into objects. Then they dump the objects.”
aaa
“What?” I heard her; I just can’t believe I heard her right.
“They’ve been using you as a human garbage disposal.” She makes a frame with her hands and looks at me through it. “Portrait of a teenage assassin.”
I stand up, even though we’re on a train and there’s nowhere for me to go.
“Callum?” She reaches out for me, and I step back.
-- aaa --
There’s a roaring in my ears. I’m grateful. I don’t think I can listen to much more.
“I’m sorry.
