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Chapter 12

“Chill out, whore. You’ll get it back.” She shoved the crinkled front page in front of my face, and I almost dropped my textbook. “Read it and weep. Seems like your boyfriend has a lot of explaining to do.”

“Rocco is not my boyfriend.” I shifted the book from one arm to the other and held out the dog-eared newspaper with my free hand.

It wasn’t possible: Why was Rocco being interviewed in a murder investigation? According to the article, Rocco’s boss Dean Harold was found stabbed to death outside the diner on Levee Road on the outskirts of town.

I screwed up my face and turned to Anna. “How the hell is this possible?”

She shrugged. “Why are you asking me? He’s your boyfriend.”

Agitated, my fingers twisting around the edges of the newspaper, I shoved the newspaper back into Anna’s hands, and like a domino effect, she turned and elbowed the rightful owner of the rag and thrusted the newspaper into the girl’s chest.