I’d never thought so much about the way I might’ve died – though I had enough reasons to in these last few months – but even if I had, this was not what I would’ve imagined.
I stared at across the long room without breathing, into the dark eyes of the killer, and he gave me a smile.
Surely this was a good way to die, in the place of someone else, someone I love. Noble, some would say. It should count for something.
I knew that if I hadn’t gone to New Orleans, I wouldn’t be facing my end. But, even though I was terrified, I couldn’t find it in me to regret my decision. When life offers you a dream so far beyond your imaginations, it’s strange to grieve when it comes to its end.
The killer smiled friendly at me, while sauntering towards me to kill me.