“If I had three hands,” she said, with a faint smile, “I would give one to each of you. Me, you may have. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. This had well nigh been the case with the carpenter. “My dear friend,” she laughed, “not so tragic, if you please. She descended down the stairs of the house, sidestepping the refuse from bingedrinking teenagers that was strewn everywhere. The rest of his attire was nondescript. So you took my womb away, you took my baby! So I could be a monster! Because she was a monster! We are monsters!” He grabbed the top of the cannon away from her face.
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