“Abernathy’s turned you down, probably because it doesn’t want to be party to murder. I ought to tell someone what you have in mind, except it sounds like I’m under some kind of seal of the confessional and I’d be breaking my oath. So why don’t you give up on murder?” “Because he won’t stop hitting me.” The sobs were coming faster now, and I could barely make out her words. “I’m so tired. He won’t stop. I need him to stop.” It was enough at odds with her cocky demeanor, her absolute surety that she was in the right, that I didn’t believe her. “If you’re making a play for my sympathy, it’s not
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