When I march back out with a knife and my car keys, his eyes go round. After I shut and lock my door, I turn and see the shock on his face swiftly shift and become grave, but that doesn’t stop me from walking past him. “So, we need to have alibis and shovels, and we need to make it quick. Also, we need to keep the blood to a minimum because you know that’s hard to get rid of, or at least it’s what I’ve seen in the shows.” I halt in my tracks and spin around. He almost crashes into me, but he manages to stop in time. “What are you talking about?” “Are we not murdering Bryson?”
