may I have the freedom to choose (and all the information to choose wisely) - PART NINE
PART EIGHT
Melissa remembered:
She’d been nearly hysterical afterward. She’d never hurt anyone before, had never seen anyone been hurt before, not on purpose. If she’d just pulled the trigger, if she hadn’t hesitated, Daniel would still be fine. He’d be smiling at her and kissing her and making sure she was alright.
He wouldn’t be struggling for breath in a private hospital. He wouldn’t have lost so much blood that he’d gone deathly pale.
He would be fine.
It was all her fault.
Someone was trying to get her cleaned up, get her to change clothes. Melissa didn’t want to. She deserved this. She deserved this stiffening cloth that stank of that metallic tang of blood. She didn’t deserve to wash the blood off her hands. “It won’t make a difference,” she said aloud. “It won’t change anything.”
She could vaguely hear people trying to talk to her, but she tuned out anything that wasn’t an update on Daniel’s condition. She let them wash her hands, finally, but it didn’t matter. The blood was always going to be there.
Melissa was a killer now.
She didn’t go see Daniel in the hospital. She had constant updates on his condition, of course, but he was still unconscious and she just couldn’t do it. Instead, she packed a bag, bullied her own bodyguard into leaving her be, and drove to her mother’s house.
Melissa knew her mother wanted to know what was going on, but she couldn’t bring herself to explain. She just cried herself to sleep in her mother’s lap and wished she were still just Malaya Dimaano.
***
She had done the right thing. Melissa was sure of it. Kurt was a sweet boy, and maybe he was strong enough. But if he wasn’t- it was so much kinder to make sure he learned it now.
PART TEN