eters

he lock about to seal my fate. With the last ounce

er the roaring in my ears. "In your heart... our

nds pressed against my abdomen, the blood

erned or guilty. It was cold, annoyed, as if I had just com

ered over the bloodstain, and his brow furrowed, not with worry, but with

but a tiny, pathetic part of me

voice, calm and steady, was laced

so drama

The world seemed

e were discussing the weather. "It's not

sto

mp of

g shell. The life I had cherished, the future I had prayed for, the tiny secr

usion I had ever built about this man, a

from me, his back straight and unforgiving. He adjusted his perfectly knotted tie, a sm

o claw at his face. But I coul

s the real Harrison Phelps. Not the hero on TV, but the monster wh

k back. He di

walked out into the n

ed shut. The wo

vision blurred at the edges. My phone was still clutche

cation to the only other person in the world who might care. My brother,

led 911 again, whispering my address to the op

ess closed in, my last thought wasn't

iet, cold r

t feels like when