"I killed her, " he said. "Several years ago. She is one of nineteen." His mother stared at him across the kitchen table. "Nineteen," she said. "Yes. The papers call me the East Side Strangler. I find the name imprecise." He said it the way he said everything. Flat. Unhurried. The way you state a fact you have long since made your peace with it. She called him Scum since he was eleven days old. She was only now beginning to understand why that was a mistake.
AmazonPagina's: 352, Paperback, Independently published
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