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I heard the gunshot before I felt the exploding pain in my leg, and I fell to the ground, crying out in pain, my gun flying from my hand. A gunman came out from behind the van just as I was pushing myself up, and fired. The bullet hit my chest and the impact threw me back, my head connecting with the hard, concrete floor.

Another volley of gunfire and the gunman collapsed onto the ground next to me, his dead eyes staring into mine.

The last thing I heard as my eyes closed and darkness took over was the distant sound of Raul yelling my name over and over again.

I was pretty sure I’d never open my eyes again.

Chapter 1: Alex Logan

“Are we there yet?”

I glanced up at my twelve-year-old daughter Kelly in the rearview mirror, her eyes glued to her phone. The frown on her face reflected the frustration I felt at being asked the same question for maybe the tenth time in the last hour, and a part of me wondered if it ever got ol

d.

Whine much, Kelly? I wanted to say, but held my tongue. If there was one thing I had learned over the years, it was that my daughter had a tongue as sharp as mine, and my sarcasm was only going to be returned ten-fold. So, I didn’t reply and returned my attention to the road.

I could hear Kelly shift in the seat, moving about loud enough to reflect her discomfort before she followed it with a deep and annoyingly loud sigh. The trip to Connecticut was taking its toll on the both of us, and between cheap motels and hours on the road, we were this close to snapping at each other.

She’s just a child, Alex.

My wife Janice’s soft voice whispered in my ear. It was so real I turned toward the passenger seat, almost believing I’d find her sitting there.

I let out my own sigh. No, she wasn’t there. She’d never be there again. It was a fact I was still trying to reconcile, her death, even after all these years. I glanced in the rearview mirror at Kelly, the physical clone of her mom. Twelve-year-olds were the new sixteen, and this early bloomer was quickly turning into a miniature copy of yours truly. She had her mom’s beauty and my bad attitude. It was turning out to be a scary combination.

“Dad?”

“We’re an hour away, sweetheart,” I replied, trying to smile as best as I could.

“You said that an hour ago!”

“Then I guess it’s obvious that asking me that question over and over again will get you the same reply,” I shot back.

I caught her in the rearview mirror, rolling her eyes and folding her arms across her chest. “Walking would probably be faster than this.”

“I can always pull over and put that to the test,” I said.

“Or you could step on it, grandpa,” Kelly said.

Whoever said that being a single dad was hard had no fucking idea what he was talking about. Hard didn’t even scratch the surface. No, it was not cute when random women came up to me in the street and oohed and aahed at me after I had spent a night cleaning up baby barf. It was never easy being called into the school because my daughter had punched a classmate, only to get that condescending nod of understanding when I told them that Kelly’s mother was no longer with us. Nothing about raising a little girl alone was easy. And with my job, it only made things more difficult.

You should stop blaming her. It’s not her fault that she had to grow up quickly.

I’d come to hear my wife’s voice more and more over the years, somewhere in the back of my mind, consoling me and telling me that everything was going to be just fine. Deep down, I knew it was only my subconscious trying to let me know that I wasn’t fucking this up too much. But it made it a lot more believable when I used Janice’s voice for these little pep talks. She was the voice of reason to my instinctual desire to shoot first and ask questions later.

You can’t shoot your daughter.

“I know,” I replied to no one in particular.

“What?”

I looked at Kelly and shrugged. “I know I can step on it,” I said. “My leg’s acting up again. Sorry.”

“I can take over if you want,” Kelly said enthusiastically, leaning in between the seats as if I wouldn’t object to her suggestion of letting a twelve-year-old drive.

“Nice try, chipmunk,” I said, giving her a quick look. “I’ll be fine.”

Kelly slumped back into her seat and huffed.

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