29
As we drive uptown, I realize that I need to pull myself together. The drained feeling is overwhelming.
“I killed someone again,” I finally say, speaking to no one in particular. “I really didn’t want to.”
“Don’t feel bad about that,” Mira says. “That fucker killed our parents. And possibly your parents, too. Besides, you just shot him. I’m the one who actually killed him.”
So Jacob wasn’t dead when Mira got there.
“I don’t know if that helps,” I say. “I knew him, you know. That makes it different, somehow.”
“You should talk to Liz once everything settles down,” Thomas recommends. “She can help.”
Yes, talk to my therapist. That would be a good start. But I need something else right now. Something more immediate.
I need some information and some time to think things through.
