The Cradle in the Grave, Page 40
Sophie Hannah
He groans, blinks. ‘Light off,’ he mumbles, groggy with sleep. ‘Fuck’s going on? Time is it?’
I stand there crying, my feet bleeding onto the white rug.
‘Con?’ Kit hauls himself up into a sitting position and rubs his eyes. ‘What’s wrong? What’s happened?’
‘She’s dead,’ I tell him.
