Chapter 34
Climbing down the car, his first action was to raise his head, scanning the house, precisely her room window.
It was a habit he couldn't do without, wanting to find out if she was home, even though he knew he couldn't tell by looking at the always wide-opened glass.
With the back of his palm, he wiped the blood rolling down the side of his head. He needed a hot shower; he smelled of rubber and burning flesh.
What could he say? His day had gone rough.
He slammed the door shut and went to the booth; pulling out a black bag, he moved straight into the house. Standing at the entrance, he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong.
The last time he felt this, his world had undergone a significant change, not the good kind. It had been a turning point in his life, a moment that shattered his sense of security and innocence. As he stepped into the dimly lit hallway, memories of that fateful day resurfaced, and a shiver ran down
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