Bobby's ears slowly recovered from the sound of gunshot. His body was tensed—he Imagined pain, expecting to feel his own blood rushing out, but the pain never came.
Bobby tried catching his breath. He then forced his eyes open—slowly. Lyra still stood there, the gun trembling in her hand. Smoke curled from the barrel—but the floor around Bobby was scorched instead of his chest.
The Loopers shifted, their masked faces unreadable. The one closest to Bobby tilted his head slightly, as if confused—or disappointed.
Lyra lowered the gun and exhaled shakily. Her gaze fixed on Bobby’s face, capturing the raw terror in his eyes.
“Lyra…” Bobby whispered, his voice cracking. “You… you didn’t…”
Her face hardened again, the moment of softness disappearing like mist. “No,” she said quietly. “I didn
