Kavinsky scoffed. It was the only retort he had. Well, no, it wasn't. But Kavinsky wasn't going to get into some sort of pedantic argument about all that, because what did it even matter? Plus, there was the matter that this kid thought it was a sin, so apparently that made it one. Kavinsky already thought that was bullshit. He didn't think anything on his list was a sin. It was just things that had happened or that he did or that got him by. Nothing shameful there.

But they were stalling, and Kavinsky hadn't had anything carved into him. He felt the next little flick of some magic or curse, cutting his skin. He lifted his shirt to reveal a thin line of red on his stomach. Like a kitten scratch. He dropped his shirt back down and hopped up on the edge of the table.

"You know, the longer you keep me waiting, the longer we're both stuck in here. Don't you want to get out?"