‘ After all you’ve put me through, you expect me to help you just like that? ’
He’s breathing heavily. “Of course I do.” No he doesn’t. He’s grasping at straws, but in this condition straws are all he has left. “You’d be a real murder if you didn’t.” He doubted the brat actually killed anyone yet. He smiles smugly, as if somehow that would help his case, “Then you’d really belong in prison.”









