Oceans of time passed while he sat there.
Unfolded like a dinner napkin, it sat on his lap. The truth. The whole awful truth of it.
She witnessed it. Across his face, she knew he understood the consequences of the past. They were both no strangers to the dangers of living the way they both did.
"Does it have to be this way?"
Expressionless, she looked back at him.
"I suppose it does."
She stood. Her hand went to her handbag.
The gun went off nearly silently as he slumped back against the bench.
"It always ends badly for people like us." She said to no one in particular.
