My voice was steady, and didn't sound like I could have tears drying on my face. I insisted on at least running an oiled cloth over the knives that I'd dunked in the bathtub. A certificate to a furniture store. There was a handful of women near the steps leading up to a door with a bright light over it.
He is dying, Anita, and nothing we can do will save him. Two hours, maybe less. If I lose control of Primo now, he will slaughter these women. I don't think so.
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