“Right,” Thomas said. “Where are we headed?” “To where they treat me like royalty,” I said. “We’re going to Burger King?” I rubbed the heel of my hand against my forehead and spelled fratricide in a subvocal mutter, but I had to spell out temporary insanity and justifiable homicide, too, before I calmed down enough to speak politely. “Just take a left and drive. Please.” “Well,” Thomas said, grinning, “since you said ‘please.’”
