"Wedding?"Marco and Bianca looked up at the same time, a flicker of confusion in their eyes, followed by the wild joy of people who think they've just cheated death.Fools always mistake the reaper's scythe for a lifeline."A love this true deserves God's blessing," I said, and clapped my hands.From the shadows, a man in a black priest's robe stepped forward.He was the family's "priest." He usually only showed up for funerals."Right here, right now," I said, pointing to the patch of filthy, blood-stained concrete. "Get married."Marco froze. "But... but this is an interrogation room...""A problem?" I raised an eyebrow. "I think it's perfect. An oath made in the face of death. Makes it unforgettable, don't you think?"The men in black forced them to their knees, facing each other.It was a revolting sight.Marco, covered in blood, his suit in rags. Bianca, half her face a festering sore, stinking of rot. They were so close they could smell the decay on each other."Your vows," I or
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