A Natural

That wasn't even a lie. He had been working. Chopping, sawing and bundling body parts—body parts he had known so intimately--in black plastic bags. And crying. God, how he had cried.

The memories came flooding back. So did the nausea. Red and black swirls bloomed before Bill's eyes, covering Officer Kitchener in a haze. Bill leaned casually on the kitchen door frame, doing his best to not let his facial expression change. Still acting natural.

Apparently, it worked.

“Well, thanks anyway,” Officer Kitchener said, moving towards the door. “If you see her, or remember anything, you'll let me know?”

“Sure.”

“Will you ask Norma, too? Just in case she saw something.”





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