Jean-Claude's face was pleasantly neutral, hiding. You let me take care of you. But you could have told me sooner, so I wouldn't have made a fool of myself. Richard, you are getting your shoes on the silk sheets.
Drop your shields, he said, and even in my head, his voice was matter-of-fact. Why was it always me that had to fix it? Because I was usually the one who screwed it up in the first place. I assume you want me to come down and look at the body. Someone shook me, sharp and hard.
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