He whips around to peer at me, wide-eyed. “No.” His eyes, ringed with red, narrow into slits. “No. That’s not real. Vinny isn’t coming, asshole. You fucked that up. You fucked it up!” Flinching, I try hard to recognize that he’s not screaming at me. Inhaling, I call out, “Remy, it’s me.” Shaking his head, he glares and points at me with the marker clenched in his fist. “Vinny wouldn’t come out here. Not after what I did.”
Remy 😫
