Lily, on the sofa, looks up from her book. She’s reading How Stars Must Feel, a nonfiction book about what modern scientists hypothesize outer space to be like, and the logistical plausibility of sending people there. Standing at the border between the living room and the hallway that leads to their bedrooms, Azrael peeks in with his hands behind his back.
Lily raises her eyebrows with suspicion. "Depends..."
"Depends on what?" says Azrael, grinning innocently as he always does.
"Is Fox involved in any way with what you're going to use the knife for?"
Azzy smiles at this. Unless it doesn't count to smile at something if you are already smiling, and in fact are unable to un-smile yourself. Regardless, he finds it humorous. "No, no. You told me not to do anything Foxtrot says if it involves sharp objects, as I recall."
Lily smiles too. She's about to say "Fine, go ahead, I want to get back to reading," when she realizes what Azzy started the conversation with - a word she missed while engrossed in her library book.
"Hold on," she says sternly, "What do you mean another knife?"
At this, the boy takes out a blood-soaked knife from behind his back. It drips crimson onto the hardwood floor.
"This one got too messy."