That left an option, one that she rarely availed herself of.
“I’m starting to get the feeling she doesn’t like us very much,” Sparky said.
“That isn’t true… it just doesn’t jive with the part of me that wants to be normal.”
The keycard reader beeped, and she walked inside her unit. It smelled of stale pizza from last night. She ignored it, grabbed something out of her night bag and sat at the table overlooking the window.
She opened up the compact mirror, and angled it to give her a view of the door. From her leather coat she removed two nine-millimetre pistols and placed them on either edge of the table.
“Easier than falling off a log,” Clara said before closing her eyes.
Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.
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