Page 104 of (My Accidental) Killer Summer
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“Oh. Dear?” I parrot, incredulous.
“I may have complicated things just a bit,” she says, sounding furtive and unsure. Guilty, even.
“What did you do?”
“Let’s just say, Doug may have some company soon.”
My stomach lurches. The room tilts, and I press my hand to the wall.
One body was an accident.
Two is a pattern.
And patterns get caught.
