I lowered the gun slowly as an officer took it gently from my hands.
Lucas turned his head, staring up at me from the floor. The charismatic, untouchable man was completely gone. In his place was just a small, pathetic coward caught in his own trap.
“Anne…” he choked out, tears finally spilling from his eyes. “Please…”
I didn’t answer him.
I didn’t grant him a single extra word.
I walked over to Melanie, pulled a small pocket knife from my bag, and sliced the ropes binding her wrists. She collapsed forward, sobbing, clutching her stomach, and thanked me over and over again.
I patted her shoulder softly, stepped over the charred remains of the blue folder on the floor, and walked out the front door into the cool desert night.
Three months later.
The morning sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my new townhome overlooking the Denver skyline.
