EPILOGUE

I snuck out of the house while Puppy was busy on the phone with one of his clients. He was in his office, but I'm sure he heard me leave anyway. I was nice enough to take the BMW though. He'd have worried more if I'd taken the Humvee. Normally that would have been a big bonus, making him worry, but I've put in an honest effort to be good lately. He's been stressed since our vacation to California. I have my memory back, and I've assured him of that, but sometimes I catch him looking at me funny. He says it's my imagination.

He wanted to kill Malcolm, of course. I had to put my foot down. We're not likely to hear from him again any time soon, but you never know. Anyway, he did help me. I'm not really the ambitious type, but I'm a little higher up on the totem pole now. And Lauren was a bitch. Nobody's going to miss her.

Anyway, I'm not out for a joyride. I'm on a mission. It struck me that we need more family type pictures in the house. So I'm off to... well, I won't say the name of the store. Puppy says if you say the name in your head, they'll know. And then you'll become enslaved to their advertising talking heads, doomed to wander the streets telling everyone you meet that you're a capitalist tool. I'm pretty sure he was joking. I'm not taking any chances. Let's just say it's the store that doesn't actually sell any walls. At least, I don't think they do.

So here I am, a vampire out in the middle of the night (duh), shopping at the store that does not sell walls. I'm looking for picture frames. I'll worry about finding the pictures to stick in them later.