My heart is crawling up my throat.
I knewâI knew what I might find in here. But the devastation of seeing them, of having them be so realâ¦
My eyes fill with tears, and I lower the gun to my side.
Freya would have been in a room like this.
âWeââ I have to swallow. âWeâre here to help.â
The womenâcloser to Freyaâs age than my ownâall look at me, then glance past me to the empty hallway.
âThere are more of us,â I promise. âIâm notâIâm sorry.â
I fight down a sob. They donât need my sympathy.
They need me to keep my shit together.
âCome withâ ââ
Before I can finish, a door I hadnât noticed on the far side of the room opens, and Gabriel Marcoux steps through.
I swing my gun up, shakily aiming at him, and steady it with my left hand.
âIsnât this sweet.â He takes a menacing step forward.
âStop!â My voice is hoarse, but I yell it as loud as I can and move farther into the room, putting myself between Gabriel and the women.
I canât do much. But I can do this.
âWhat?â he laughs. âYouâre going to kill me, an unarmed man, in cold blood?â He shakes his head. âYouâre not like the women upstairs. Quit pretending to be.â He takes another step forward and points to the women behind me. âThis isnât about you.â
I think of the way Hans holds me like heâs afraid to lose me.
I think of those three lonely graves somewhere in this desert.
I think of all the women whose voices are never heard.
And I think about how much better the world will be without this piece of shit man in it.
âNo, itâs not about me.â I take a breath. âBut this fight belongs to all of us.â
I pull the trigger.