Prologue
That Smile
Hiro
I couldn't close my eyes to sleep.
The moment darkness fell around my lids, she was there. Nura—dark brown skin, breathtaking face, her lips curved, the faintest smile meant only for me.
And then the horror came.
Her, chained and forced to sit on the floor beneath my father as if he were higher and she was lower.
Her, turning her face in my direction and giving me that smile again.
And then—time slowed.
The muzzle flashed. I saw the bullet leave the barrel, cut through the air between them—between my father's hand andher head—in a trajectory I would trace in my mind for the rest of my life.
That smile was still on her face.
Her eyes still held that warmth.
The bullet traveled through inches of air, then less, moving toward the side of her head where her skin looked so soft, where I'd hoped to press my lips after our date.
Contact.
The metal kissed bone.
For a fraction of a breath, nothing—and then everything.
The skull resisted, then gave way.
I saw. . .Isaw. . .the fracture lines spider outward from the point of entry, a grotesque starburst blooming across the curve of her head. The bullet punched through, carrying pieces of her with it.
Fragments of bone.
Dark matter.
The very essence of who she was, atomized.
The exit wound erupted.
Everything that made her sprayed outward in a mist of red. A horrific flower blooming in reverse, petals flying away instead of unfurling.
And through it all, impossibly, that smile remained on her face.
Her eyes hadn't changed yet. They were still looking at me with that warmth, even as she ceased to exist. It took a heartbeat for gravity to claim her, then she was gone.
Sound came last.
My screams.
The gunshot's sharp, final crack.
I saw it again and again.
That smile. . .
