The firing of the blanks hit Melanie as spits of fire rather than cracks of thunder. At the first shot she clutched her chest. With the second shot, she rocked backward. The last one sent her to the floor, where the carpet absorbed her fall. She rolled on her back and stared at the ceiling, not blinking.

The rest happened quickly. Shouts sounded. Jeramie turned on the lamp. The others gathered around, Marc knelt by her side, his face grim.

“She’s dead,” he said.

Melanie closed her eyes, his pronouncement going deep inside her...

I am dead.....