The documentary aired on a Sunday night.
Adam didn't watch it. He couldn't. Instead, he sat in the garage, alone, the radio playing softly, his hands wrapped around a cold cup of coffee. The phone sat on the tool bench, silent.
Sandra was at the apartment. She'd offered to stay. He'd told her he needed time to think.
“You've been thinking for years,” she'd said.
“One more night won't hurt.”
Now the night stretched ahead, empty and dark.
---
At 9 PM, the phone buzzed.
A text from Leo: “Watching the doc. You're a star.”
Adam didn't reply.
At 9:15, Micheal called. “You did good. Made me cry. Don't tell anyone.”
“Your secret's safe.”
“How are you holding up?”
“I'm still standing.”
“That's enough.”
---
At 10 PM, the garage door opened.
Adam reached for his gun, then stopped.
A
