Even without any of the rest, hearing about the murder of a young girl is bad enough. It hits spots with easily-opened scars.
She swallows. Hard.
Oh shit.
Oh, shit.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
Around that point, a passing old man on his way out back into the cold drops his cigarette in the ashtray at the table behind them. Semi-automatically, Heather stands up, resting one knee on her seat as she does so, to pick up the ash tray, getting ready to empty it.
Although her back is partway turned to Cooper, her growing discomfort is probably obvious.
"Did you ever-- ... who was the killer? ... Why'd they do it?"
That name... what was that name he had asked her about, back then? He had asked her if she knew anything...
no subject
Even without any of the rest, hearing about the murder of a young girl is bad enough. It hits spots with easily-opened scars.
She swallows. Hard.
Oh shit.
Oh, shit.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
Around that point, a passing old man on his way out back into the cold drops his cigarette in the ashtray at the table behind them. Semi-automatically, Heather stands up, resting one knee on her seat as she does so, to pick up the ash tray, getting ready to empty it.
Although her back is partway turned to Cooper, her growing discomfort is probably obvious.
"Did you ever-- ... who was the killer? ... Why'd they do it?"
That name... what was that name he had asked her about, back then? He had asked her if she knew anything...