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39. The Goodbye Girls

We got back on the road and started walking. It was already dark and we were tired, but no one felt like waiting around.

I still wasn’t sure what to make of my companions’ view of me. I don’t think you could call it a compliment. Given the choice of superhero powers, I’m pretty sure most people wouldn’t consider being able to spot a dickhead at five hundred paces an insta-pick.

To be honest, though, I had no magical spidey-sense when it came to horrible people (despite Claire’s theory that my ‘gift’ was due to the old playground adage of ‘it takes one to know one’). A more accurate description would be to say I considered everyone I met to be a dick, and statistical probability just happened to always be in my favour.

“Do you think he’ll come after us?” asked Maurice.

“Sonny? I doubt it,” I replied. “He hasn’t got a horse so he’ll probably go to the farm to get one. Of course, he’s going to bad mouth us to the farmer, but that might turn out to be a good thi
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