“Hey,” he says softly. “Talk to me, Freckles. Why are you so sad? Did Chris hurt you again?” I shake my head, my chest tightening. “No. Chris is dead,” I reply with a wobbly bottom lip, opening my eyes to look at him. “We killed him. Me and you. He can never hurt us again.” “Never again,” he repeats with a frown, and I nod.
