“You did that to her?” Still nothing. “You stabbed her? You mutilated her?” He presses his face harder into my middle, and I shudder beneath him, whimpering as I try not to scream. “You planned it all?” His silence starts to infuriate me, and I reach down and smack him hard on his shoulder. When he doesn’t respond, I hit him again, over and over, pummeling his head, his back, any part I can reach. But the fucking bastard doesn’t move, nor does he say a word.
Knew it. I fucking knew it.
