I watch the shadow that grows, the one that arches—
Then my face furrows.
I blink, once, twice, Samick’s mouth warm on my skin, then I trace the dark shadow to the torchlight, the flames flickering over the grey tiles.
It’s a silhouette.
I look over the shower room—to the entrance.
And my insides bolt.
Someone is there.
The silhouette.
A stranger.
He stands in the entrance. A human. A man—k
With a shotgun.
And he’s aiming it right at us.
FIVE
The double barrel of the shotgun is aimed right at us.
I loosen a glassy breath, and as I do, tears roll down my cheeks.
The man blinks.
His short eyelashes flutter before his greyish brow furrows.
I just stare at him, and slowly, his resolve cracks.
The tension in his furry jaw slackens for a moment—and in that moment, he falters.
He lowers the shotgun.
Still, my heart is pinned in place, like my insides are still frozen over.
But Samick should know.
He should realise there’s a man in the entrance, a double barrel shotgun aimed at his back, but…
Maybe the now-cold rainfall of the shower coming down on us is distorting his hearing. Maybe it’s the storm battering the outside that drowns out the noise.
Maybe he’s misreading me.
Samick has something in his abilities, a power to sort of sniff out what I’m feeling, what anyone is feeling.
But that weighted dread in me… he must think is for him. For what he did.
For what he’s doing.
And he doesn’t care.
He doesn’t stop.
