The trooper opened his eyes, and he looked at the sheriff. I touched his hair and tried not to look at what I'd done to his face. Requiem was still at my back, dead still, but Graham was on the grave. Not for long, I said.
Nathaniel had gone back to smoothing out biscuit dough. Gigolo, she said. I felt him struggling above me, but he wasn't used to being the one on top. Probably, I said.
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