23
Sara
I feel sick, literally ill with anxiety. My stomach is cramping, and it feels like a truck drove over my chest. Ever since Peter told me about the Nigerian banker, I’ve been trying not to think about the danger, but tonight, listening to the men talk about the insane security at the banker’s compound and what they’ll do in case one of them gets injured or killed, I couldn’t ignore it any longer.
Tomorrow, Peter and his teammates will go up against a monster in his heavily guarded lair, and there’s no guarantee they’ll come out alive.
Locking myself in the bathroom, I hurry to the sink and splash cold water on my face, trying to breathe through the suffocating tightness in my throat. It feels like a panic attack, only the fear I’m feeling has nothing to do with my own situation—
