Nolan’s eyes slide to the woodchipper and then back to mine, disbelief now mixing with the revulsion that still simmers in his face. “Did you name your woodchipper after the beloved Sesame Street character Cookie Monster and then teach a raven to beg for human snacks made from the people you murdered?” A thick swallow slides down my throat. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.” “No,” Nolan says as all the light leaves his eyes. “It’s worse.”
LMAO
