Clean Panties, Dirty Soul
"You would've thought I deserved it, blamed me for not stepping aside and slowing you down while you saved your precious Dakota. But I'm not here to listen to your excuses today."
From my bag, I took out a photo and pressed it against the glass. It was Nancy, sitting in the garden of her rehabilitation center, strapped into her wheelchair.
A caretaker was feeding her water, but Nancy's eyes were empty, her expression blank. From afar, she looked like a non-sentient doll.
Jack's breathing became shallow. "What did you do to Nan—"