”“Of course,” Carol replied, grinning. “He helped me be okay with both times. And it wasn’t that he was a killer ... he helped me understand...what ‘self-defense’ really meant. After each man I killed, I’d locked away a lot of it. He helped me see that in those moments, it was them or me. I was going to be raped, beaten, and/or killed. Or I could defend myself. My brothers ... they always told me ‘fuck that put them down and run for help thing’. Put them down. Permanently. Make sure they can’t. ‘Anyway, I would much rather go to Barbados than D.F…. it’s too polluted for me.’ Phoebe buttered her second ladyfinger. ‘So why don’t you? I could always use a second hand around the place. It’s plaster and bones.’ She kept her eyes lowered. He laughed, and said: ‘I would have to leave this delightful conversation to buy a ticket.’ ‘I could probably bear it, if you left me memento of yours.’ She smiled up at him. Her teeth had always been very white. In the next second, Chris felt as if his. More

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