ANONYMOUS POV
“Is it done?”
The words come right out of me, calmer than I intend. Making it feel more like they’ve been living in my throat for too long.
But then, the man before me doesn’t meet my eyes. Instead, he nods, with his head and eyes lowered to the floor.
“An audible response would do!” I snap.
He looks up for a minute, and then darts his eyes away like he can’t hold mine for too long.
“The—-crash happened as planned. Stravros’s car spun into the lane. He’s in critical condition as we speak,” he finally says.
Critical? Not dead?
Like any perfectionist, I had a particular dislike for losing.
The last time I’d lost at something, I was eight and up against the greatest chess player in all of New York.
I should feel satisfaction over what I've just done. Relief even b
