Millie: Gang war?
Kitty: Something like that
Millie: That’s nuts
Kitty: Maybe. You have to wonder what they did to get killed
George: That’s a weird way of looking at it
George: Weren’t they just people who, ya know, were murdered? Are we victim-blaming murder victims?
Kitty: Nah. People don’t wash up with concrete boots if they’re innocent lol
Millie: You’re surprisingly cavalier about this
Lara: Our spunky Irish lass is a hood rat
Kitty: *snorts*
Kitty: Not exactly but been around long enough to know how it works
Millie: If you feel unsafe, you can come visit us. We’d love to see you, and the girls miss their godmother
Kitty: Awww, thanks, Millie, but things are busy here with my new job and I’m rarely out anyway lol. I’m safe. I swear <3
Lara: That’s right! How’s the gig working out?
Kitty: It’s fab. My patient (private) is a crotchety old coot but he’s hilarious. No more night shifts either
Lara: You’re a kitty. You had to land on your feet at some point
Kitty: True dat
Kitty: Hey, thanks for caring, guys
Lara: DUH.
Millie: You deserve that lol
George: We’re buds!
Kitty: I know but still, means a lot
THIRTY-EIGHT
KITTY
Lips curving thanks to the text convo with my buds, I peered at Stan, who looked fly in a tailored suit I needed to fuck him out of. “I’m guessing you’re behind this?”
I showed him the article George had also forwarded me.
He turned smug. “Of course.”
“How many more will be washing up like dirty laundry?”
“A few dozen.”
“Dozens?!” I sputtered.
