“Please don’t say I told you so,” I said weakly. The queasy topsy-turvy sensation was still careening around in my gut. “I would never,” he growled. Rome pressed three bottles of water into my hands he’d managed to magic up from somewhere. A bit excessive but appreciated nonetheless. I opened one and drank it in slow sips until that awful acrid taste went away. “Then why do you look so upset?” I asked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, feeling my nausea subside. “Because I want to sue the living daylights out of this Kenny,” Rome hissed, lacing the name with acid. He was back to
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