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“To be honest, I was relieved it wasn’t the raccoon again. Do you know how hard it is to get a codeine-addicted raccoon out of a ventilation system? Fucking hard.”
“Fucking Barbara,” he hisses. I grab a crutch and hop up onto my good foot. “Yeah, fucking Barbara. Let’s fuck her up,” I say, whipping my knife from the sheath at my back. “Who’s Barbara?” “The raccoon.”
“It wasn’t really by choice. But I’d take a raccoon to the face for you any day, Rose Evans.”
“So cute yet so murdery,” I say, stuffing the gloves in my back pocket. “I think we’re kindred spirits, Barbara.”