Breaking the Cycle

Adrian  

Clara’s hands were shaking.  Her grip on the gun was tight, her knuckles white from the pressure. Her breathing was ragged, uneven, as if she were struggling to keep herself from breaking apart entirely.  

She had been screaming just moments ago. Now, she was silent. Davis’s blood was still on her hands, staining her skin, seeping into her clothes. His body lay motionless on the floor, his fingers still curled from the last desperate attempt to hold onto her.  

And now, all that was left was she and the gun. Kelly stood frozen a few feet away, her face pale, her eyes wide with something between...