“I love that you’re more worried about me imitating you poorly than you are about me tryin’ to kill you,” she said, shoving her face up next to his. She stabbed him in the chest—he hadn’t even seen her drop the dueling cane—with a glass knife. “It’s so you, Wayne!” “You don’t know me,” Wayne growled, managing to kick her leg and make her slip a little. She loosened her grip, which let him rip free and move around her, though her knife sliced him across the chest.
