‘That flea-bitten psycho should be run over,’ he narcs, and I narc right back.

‘I would say the same about you, but here you are. If you get left to walk around attacking people, then so should he. Leave him alone.’ I answer drily, hands on hips. The air sizzles again with our familiar electric hatred, and Mico sighs like a worn-out and already fed-up dad caught between siblings.

I go to turn on my heel, disinterested in taking this further and smug that he got what he ...