“As ambiguous as usual.”
“Then let me expound for your feeble mind,” she snapped. “I want everything you stole from me. Freedom. Time. Youth. You are woefully unable, however, because you have nothing more to offer than that carcass you heave around while siphoning air that you have no right to breathe.”
“And this—” he nodded at Leah, still unconscious and bound to the chair, “is your right? Your path to restored freedom, youth, time?” He shook his head, disgusted. “I may be no saint, but you, my dear, are no martyr.”
“Martyr?” Delia threw her head back and roared with laughter. “God, Craig, only you would get philosophical at a time like this. This has nothing to do with martyrdom or something as banal as that. This is about capitalism. Pure and simple.”
She tilted her head as she stu
