‘Sit up!’
He groped and shuffled onto the seat. I took an oar and jabbed it gently into his crotch. He winced and I left it there. ‘Now, one by one, you take up those bits of metal and you drop them over the side.’
It took a while and the sun was fierce in the sky. By the time he’d finished his neck and shoulders were bright red from sunburn and his tears had soaked through the blindfold.
Вы читаете Forget Me If You Can
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