‘You’ll get through it.’ ‘What if I don’t?’ I squeezed her fingers. ‘Then I will personally make fun of you every day for the rest of your life,’ I said. ‘I will call you a sissy girl in front of everyone you know, tie frilly aprons on your car, and lurk in the parking lot at CPD and whistle and tell you to shake it, baby. Every. Single. Day.’ Murphy’s breath escaped in something like a hiccup. She opened her eyes, a mix of anger and wary amusement easing into them in place of the fear. ‘You do realize I’m holding a gun, right?’
