She started kicking the door. He could hear it splintering from the other side.
“S-sorry,” he called. “I … I l-love you, too.”
She laughed. “Bit late, yeh flamin’ drongo.”
That wasn’t nearly as cute as it once was.
Fletcher’s fingers opened and closed. His whole body ached and buzzed, but it was slowly coming back under his control. He looked around for something, a weapon, and reached out for Tane’s wrist, started pulling his body closer.
Myra was really making a racket with all that kicking. “You’re annoying me now,” she said. “You hear me, Fletch? Now I’m annoyed. Let me in. Let me in right now.”
When Tane’s body was close enough, Fletcher’s hand curled round the handle of the knife. He tried pulling it free, but it was lodged deep in the skull.
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