“I’m heading home, boss,” Seven says. “Wife is making lasagna for dinner, if you want me to bring you some.” “I appreciate it,” Lorenzo says, “but I can fend for myself.” Pfftt, fuck that. “You can bring me some,” I call down. “I’m not dumb enough to pass up home cooking.” Seven laughs, waving toward me. “I think I’ve done enough for you today, Morgan.”
