My gut drops like a rock to the bottom of my spine. Jeremiah goes on, ‘You recall me saying your role lies in communications, right?’
I can’t find the strength to nod. ‘Kill?’ I echo.
‘Does that bother you so much?’ Jeremiah asks me.
A laugh tumbles from my throat, disbelieving, and croaks into a groan as I press my hand hotly against my face. The glass pane beside us gives too much transparency. Light gushes in across our table. The red vinyl chairs are too glaring, too gory. I shift my eyes to the bleached wood table between us, peeking between my fingers.
‘Any second now and you’ll tell me it’s for the greater good.’
Jeremiah taps a finger on the table, lightly beckoning my attention. ‘Don’t tell me you don’t see it that way.’
‘I don’t.’
His hand peels my wrist away and I go d
