They said it had been quick.
She probably hadn't felt a thing. He knew she did. He felt it in his chest when the bullet hit her. He never told her he loved her, and now he never would. He would spend the rest of life wondering what could have been. Now he walking into the place he had walked into with her a million times, but without her this time. How would he tell them? But then again how do you tell someone their best friend, their mentor is dead. So he doesn't. He walks with her blood on his shirt and the dead look in his eye and they know. They know she's gone. They all have different reactions. One cries, one denies, another is in shock. But in all their minds, including him, one word courses through.
Why