Zerbrowski looked at me. He looked boneless, as if he could have slid into the floorboard, if his body had been a little less solid. It sat inside me, sniffing, puzzling, but it did not rise. My rule was always if someone could feel the emotion, the least I could do was not turn away.
We have less than three hours to get your asses back to your homes. He vanished into the dimness of the living room. Yeah, I have a prior claim, apparently. Just tell me the truth.
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