Collins was dead.
I turned to face Jacob, carefully searching his face to affirm what he had just told me. There were no traces of humor on his defined features and his eyes held my gaze with as much fervor as mine held his.
Satisfied with my little examination, I looked away.
As I tried to process my thoughts and analyze how I felt about this, I felt something wash over me. It almost felt like a cleanse but I couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. It bothered across the lines of relief and retribution.
It seemed as though one of the weights that had been placed on me had been gently lifted with those words, yet tingling signs of doubt still danced within me.
“Could Collins really be dead?” I asked myself repeatedly.
The man had looked so powerful then. He easily commanded those aroun
