“Your numbers up” said Gypsy Rose, “if you want to know more you have to cross my palm with silver, or in your case, make it a twenty.” I’d heard enough, I knew exactly what she meant. I collected my belongings and hurried out of the caravan.
How much time did I actually have? Word on the street was that Mac the knife was out and trying to find me. He had had his sentence reduced. That must have been some bribe as it could never have been for good behaviour. I’d left the neighbourhood as soon as he was sent down, now it would seem that it would be best to move again, just in case. Mac was not known for giving up.
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