The Debt Collector, part two
“What are you?” “Not what am I, Mr. Rivers, but why am I.” Anson couldn’t understand. “Why are you?” It made no sense. “You really don’t remember?” The question sounded playful and Anson imagined another chuckle. “You created me – well, the way I lookanyway.” Anson stared at the intruder with wide... Sign in to see full entry.