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Mona let him eat a piece of them first. It was only fair.
He chose the ring finger, in place of the ring he would never put on it. They didn't flinch when the knife came down.
He took it into his mouth like communion. Buttery fat melted on his tongue, tendons caught in his teeth.
He swallowed the bones down, his personal sedative pills for what would follow. They could get them back later, when they tore him open, sank their hands into him, fulfilled that promise from so long ago.
Until then, he'd hold Mona safe inside him.