Okay, so I flip the muffin tin over—it’s just an ordinary muffin tin, see?—and I flip it over like this. You watching?” The shadowed figure in the corner of the kitchen nodded, a minute incline of the head. “So now I’m going to punch holes in the bottom of the molds.” She reached into a drawer.
“Wait.” The man leaned closer. “Why don’t you already have one with holes in?”
Marie stabbed him in the throat with the awl from the drawer. “Because that’d make a lousy trick.” He dropped the gun he’d held on her, gurgled, and followed the gun to the floor.
Once she was sure he wasn’t going to get up, Marie commenced with freaking out.