He brought a knife. I brought a gun. Our families brought everyone they know.
Two families have been killing each other over one stretch of coastline for six years. To end it, they married off their sons.
Krating is the son his family could spare. Sin is the son his family cannot lose. On their wedding night Krating finds a knife under his new husband's pillow, and sets his gun on the nightstand where everyone can see it. His husband looks at the gun, looks at him, and asks which side of the bed he would like.
Both of them have the same order from home: be a widower before the first anniversary, and make it look like an accident.
So they try. Politely. A cold-store door that sticks. A car with no brakes. A water heater that should have been serviced. Then they sit down to dinner with both families and pass each other the fish.
The trouble is that Sin keeps choosing methods that give him time to change his mind. The trouble is that Krating keeps noticing. And when somebody else takes a shot at Krating in the middle of the container yard, the wrong husband gets angry about it.
One year. One bed. Two families counting down.
Somebody is supposed to be dead by the anniversary party.
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