Tiffani squatted by Ping’s battered remains, poking at them with general disgust.
She gestured down at the floor with a sharp, humorless laugh.
She kicked idly at one of the disembodied metal limbs.
I stooped down to get a closer look at one of her arms– its hand was locked in a tight fist, but there was a piece of paper sticking out between its fingers.
I tried to pull her fingers apart, but the metal wouldn’t budge. On closer inspection, though, it looked like most of the paper had already been torn away… The best I could do was wriggle out the last remaining scrap from between her dented knuckles.
Oh well. Even if I couldn’t make out any words, the fact that the paper was there in the first place had to mean something, right?