My world is on fire and I'm obsessed with the girl who lit the match. The bloody knuckles and lifeless body at my feet confirm it: Penny is my undoing. My gentlemanly façade is nothing more than a memory. My sins seep through my shirt like ink. I tried to get away from her, but it didn't work. I also tried to take her life, but I couldn't. So we'll slowly dance in the flames until there's nothing left of me but ashes and coals. I will rise, like a phoenix, only when she leaves. The problem is that I would never let her go. No, she would have to run far, far away to escape me. And maybe she will do so if I just tell her the truth: I own the Sinners Anonymous hotline. And I listened to every call.