Chapter 7: Carried Out

The four doves came down the hall shoulder to shoulder.

Big men. White suits. Hearts folded flat as napkins.

"Miss Gilroy," the one with the keys said. "She'd like you to rest."

"I'm good, thanks."

"Everyone says that the first night."

I backed into Jody's room.

My hand was already in my jacket pocket, on the gold lipstick case.

Seven years of habit. Thumb on the cap, twist, flick.

The bow unfolded in my fist with a sound like a fan snapping open.

The doves stopped.

"Easy," the keyholder said.

There were six arrows in the case.

I'd never once shot a man who didn't have someone to look at.

The keyholder was in front. The dove behind his shoulder was staring right at the back of his head.

I shot the keyholder in the back of the hand.

He yelped and turned around.

He looked straight at the dove behind him.

His whole face changed.

His heart unfolded like a napkin shaken out for dinner, and went bright pink.

"Oh," he said softly. "Oh, it's you."

The second dove's mouth opened.

I shot him in the thigh.

He looked at the keyholder.

And that was two big men in white suits holding hands in a hallway.

They stared into each other's eyes.

The other two came for me.

I shot the third one in the shoulder as he passed the fourth.

He grabbed the fourth one's lapels.

I swear I meant to shoot the fourth one too, but the third one kissed him first, and after that it didn't matter.

Four arrows.

Four doves in love.

The keyholder pulled the keys out of his pocket and held them out to his partner.

"These are yours," he said. "Everything I have is yours."

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