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Amy’s Point Of View
At breakfast, I didn’t stare at either of them because the last thing on my mind was a quarrel with Anastasia and Katerina. I knew an overnight killing spree was had, and by the expressions on both women’s faces and their relaxed, almost post-orgasmic demeanor, they enjoyed it.
Adding to my suspicions that they’d had a good night’s hunting was the cacophony of police sirens that began crisscrossing the city while darkness still enveloped it. The din dragged me from a dream for a few minutes before I consigned the matter to being none of my business and dropped off to sleep again.
Hannah slipped up the night before, telling me she was in bed alone watching Netflix when we met at the fridge close to midnight for a chilled raspberry cordial Maria made earlier in the day.
That meant Anastasia had joined her mother on the hunt.
I didn’t react then or to the sirens that wrenched me from sleep, and now, at the breakfast table, I saw Dad’s expression was a dead giveaway, looking elated beyond a state that any man ought to be, regardless of how enjoyable a night he’d had in bed.
I should be thankful they are both alive.
I am thankful that Pandora must be dead.
Anastasia has surprised me.
And now, at a breakfast attended by everyone, we had an elephant in the room. It wasn’t an angry, rampaging mammoth; instead, it was the sort of pleasant pachyderm that just needed to be aired a little, closing loops and tying up loose ends.