You’re so unapologetic for what you’ve done. For how many people you’ve killed. How are you okay with that?” “Why wouldn’t I be?” he challenges, tilting his head with an amused grin. I’d say he looks like a cute puppy, but that would be a lie. He looks like a vicious beast that’s been locked up too long and is ravenous. For me, in particular. “I don’t know—morals?” I say, like the answer is obvious. Because it is. “Guilt? Remorse?” “The very people you want to kill are the founding fathers of society’s morals. I killed their expectations of me, and then I sliced open their throats to show them
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