Elijah bore almost forty slaps before he regained consciousness. Evelyn had done an outstanding job at hitting him on the head. If she were alive, I believed she could’ve gotten away with murdering him easily.
He held on to his head where he was hit and asked me, “Am I home yet?”
“Don’t get your hopes up, lad. You’re still in this dismal game,” I answered in all seriousness.
He looked around us and then asked me upon discovering Evelyn’s corpse, “Who killed her?”
Since there were only two of us alive in the building, it was a stupid question for him to even ask. Even though I didn’t want to confess to the crime I had committed in the guise of self-defence, I faced him with contrite eyes.
Since I was at fault, I expected him to reprimand me. After all, I had committed a serious of
