She cut strips and then small pieces, pulling the threads apart, but stopped at Speedy. He hadn’t seen anything, but he’d felt her heart beating. It hadn’t been the same kind of beat as when she raced down the sidewalk, bike streamers flying, or when she double dutched, legs high and feet floating through swinging ropes until she couldn’t believe how long she’d jumped, and the light-headed, big-smile feeling made her skip a step. No, today’s heartbeat made her sick, as gross as dried piss on a toilet seat. She cut Speedy in half and stuffed him down the kitchen garbage, burying him under
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