“Today I saw a video of you on the news. You got shot and the bullet just bounced off like nothing, so you are bullet proof,” she explained. She knows I’m bulletproof? So what? That’s no big deal. See? I’m panicking over nothing.
“That’s not a secret, everyone knows that,” I shook my head at her. I definitely thought she knew a lot more than that.
“But I pulled a bullet from your abdomen, you really were shot that night and I think it was because of that orange stuff, the Mona-mot-moz,” She stumbled to pronounce the word and a lump formed in my throat as she began to connect the dots. That was exactly what I had been so afraid of since that night. Someone knows my weakness.
“Monazite,” I found myself confessing, even if I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because, deep down, I really felt
