"What do you think she will think of me after what I just made her witness?" Berryanna said as she stood beside Peachtree on the floor.
Her voice did not shake, but her hands did. The dagger was still in her grip, slick and heavy, hanging low at her side. Her eyes kept drifting back to the doorway, to the place Straw had disappeared through. That was where her fear lived now, not in the body bleeding at her feet, but in the silence Straw had left behind.
Vinegario said nothing. He watched her for a moment, his face unreadable, then stepped closer. His boots stopped near Peachtree's head. He reached out and took the dagger from Berryanna's hand. She did not resist. Her fingers opened easily, as if the weight had suddenly become too much to carry.
