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―Hang up‖ I heard that pretty distinctly ―He told us not ‖

Click

After a fewup

I did

Okay

His wife, probably

Unless it wasn‘t

Mrs Anderson was in Minnesota, he‘d said And had that been Mr Anderson‘s voice? Well, hoould I know?

Whatever

Mr Anderson had a life

He sure as hell didn‘t need ht, I read one of Matt‘s e-mails He‘d had a bad day His convoy had taken sniper fire, and he‘d had to do building sweeps, which he‘s said can get you killed just as fast as an IED He ed to take out two snipers, but the third shot his partner and got away The story was depressingly fah, I had trouble for a reply because I really, really wanted to talk to someone real and not just electrons thrown halfway around the world But I also knew that the kind of questions I had Matt just couldn‘t answer

In the end, I sent nothing back For the first tiy to make up a nice story, and that one didn‘t mean he didn‘t need me

Before bed, I went into my bathroom, closed the door I turned on the shower and, as the water heated up, peeled out of ht front pocket of my jeans was heavy, which eird--until I re the knife into my pocket, but I‘d found it at lunch, while I hid in a bathrooone If he had, did he suspect one to the library So either he knew and didn‘t care, or he didn‘t know Whatever I would have to figure out a way to slip it back into his desk

Mr Anderson‘s knife--the Kissing Crane stiletto--arm from my body heat I studied the blade as the shower thru I didn‘t like looking at et the donor sites on e to inspect h, they love that kind of stuff: oh, that’s scarring very well ) You know, Bob, there‘s this ht--for uy she falls in love with is kind of creepy-kinky, and it beco proves how much she loves hiuy, her scars are part of her beauty He bathes her, washes her hair, kisses every inch of skin, tastes every wound

And now, here was Mr Anderson‘s kissing knife I liked the heft, the weight How solid it was, like a pro--before Danielle--I‘d felt safe in Mr

Anderson‘s back rooht, he‘d taken care of me

I eyed the bathroom door

I could It would be so simple A quick flick of the wrist A little pressure I could do it

So I did For the first time in months, BobI locked the door

18: a

The knob was cool and ed with a tiny snick

My heart was pounding Still clutching the knife, I drew aside the curtain and slipped under the shower Water drummed over my face and neck, sheeted over hs The shoas already ware of heat I kept going, letting the heat build, gasping as the hot water needledroar--was nearly identical to the bellow of that fire so long ago and yet alithdown--and Bob?

It wasn‘t all bad

Because there was the knife His knife I pulled out the blade, felt it lock into place

This was the knife, the knife, his kissing knife

The staghorn was rough, but the stiletto was san to warecareful, be carefull and felt how keen that blade was