Harold and Mary sat together in the back of a police SUV, towels wrapped around them as they watched the officers work. Harold's eyes remained fixed on the front door as images of what had transpired inside flashed through his mind. His heart ached as he thought about what could have happened to Mary if he hadn't been able to stop the assassin.
He shut his eyes and let out a long sigh.
"I'm sorry," Mary murmured from his side. Her leg had been treated and bandaged, but the trauma of the event still haunted her.
Harold turned to her, and she looked back at him. "I shouldn't have brought you here." Tears spilled from her eyes, glinting with regret.
"No…" Harold said softly, watching her. "No, Mary, this isn't your fault." He placed his right arm around her shoulders and pulled
