“You do,” I bet, my voice a glistening blade sliding between his ribs, performing an autopsy without his consent. “You think about it in bed at night when the space beside you is too cold and empty. You think about it on the anniversary of his death every year and the anniversary of when you two met. You think about it when you look at Kasper out of the corner of your eye when you believe he isn’t looking. You can’t fool me, Jiang, because I know what it is to love in a way that never dies. And if that love is taken from you unjustly, I know what it is to live with revenge as your life’s
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