DROP FIFTY-FOUR
Pickle knocked on his workshop’s door. Her knock was soft, timid. She held a lipstick on the same hand.
“Yeah? Is there a fire or something?” Hector shouted through it.
Pickle rested her head on the wood. “No, I needed to admit something to you.”
“So, no fire then. Pickle, I have one rule, when the door is shut-”
Pickle opened the door and walked in. She didn’t care if he was n***d or w*****g off or anything, she needed to get this off her chest. Hector was just cleaning his electric shaver. She paced up and down not saying anything for a full two minutes.
Hector chuckled, shaking his head slowly. “Pickle, you think I don’t know you’re keeping things from me? I get it, it’s just how your mind works. You’re always scheming-”
“I’m not scheming!” she complained, her voi
