19KillianWhen I woke up to see Emilio Alvarez standing over my bed, I thought at first that he was a figment of my imagination—that maybe I was dreaming that he was there. But no matter how many times I blinked, he was still there, unwavering, and I was finally forced to accept the fact that he was really there. I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice and trying to ignore just how vulnerable I was, lying there in the hospital bed, barely able to move with all the things the doctors had me connected to.
I cleared my throat. “You've come to kill me, just like you killed Frank?” I asked, my voice rough.
Emilio frowned at me, but he didn't move. “No,” he said. After a long moment, he sighed, shaking his head, and sat down in the seat at my bedside. “You have to understand, Frank's death ha
