Later that night, Imani wanted to practice her shooting, so we all went to my place to let her practice in the shooting range. Even Ana came with João and a huge plate of brigadeiros, to watch the security camera footage of Redwood.
Imani stood at the target, steadied her hips, and aimed her gun at the center. When she pulled the trigger, she stumbled back slightly, but the recoil wasn’t as bad as it had been that first night I brought her here.
“You’re getting better,” I said, walking to her.
I placed one hand on her hip, the other on her wrist to help her aim a bit more accurately. She was inches off from the center, inches away from being able to kill someone, if she needed.
“You think?” she asked, a smile on her lips.
“Yes, the only question is …” I paused and glanced down at her.
