Colombia paced about the room she shared with Magenta, sobbing uncontrollably. Why had she let him do it? Why couldn't she have saved Eddie? She hated herself for being so weak. For letting Frank put him in the deep freeze, for letting him take half his brain to make Rocky.
"You couldn't have stopped him."
She turned to see Magenta leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, with the usual dispassionate expression upon her face. Yet, one could almost detect a note of sympathy in her tone.
"I could have tried!"
"And gotten yourself killed as well for your trouble."
"Frankie, he wouldn't have…"
"Hurt you? Did you think, moments before it happened, that he would killed Eddie? You are a mere plaything, and would be disposed of just as quickly if you proved to be a nuisance."
Colombia flopped lifelessly down onto the bed. "I know," she said quietly. Magenta sighed, striding across the room to sit beside her. Reaching under the bed, she pulled out a bottle of potent vodka, uncorking it with her teeth and taking a swig before handing it to Colombia.
"Here. Let's see what our guests are up to; I'll let you do my nails, if you want."
Colombia put on a shaky smile; Magenta constantly turned down offers of manicures, pedicures, makeovers, and the like. At least someone cared.