It is true, Valentina said. If it’s a man, it’s the same word, a blabbermouth. Valentina and I looked at each other. Agent Bradford had guessed that it was part of some plot to get me to raise the dead for some nefarious purpose.
Great, I whispered. Zerbrowski looked ill. Either Jean-Claude and Asher had been doing it behind my back. I frowned at him, then turned, still frowning, back to the road.
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