"You're free, Kemp. I'm taking the glass from your hand."
He's not sure if he should feel relief. How unfair is that? How cruel is it to get a stay of execution, while Alan is led out of the apartment by the strange and crippled Albert?
But he does feel relief, a flood of it, drowning everything else. He can't even bring himself to curse and spit at Nica. Instead, he waits until the men's backs are far down the street, then walks out wordlessly.
Then there is only Nica, with a hand full of glass and a bowl full of sand.
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