She likes him. That's why she put a bullet in his chest.
His chest, not his head; she was biding her time, taking the life of her husband's best friend was never her intention.
Her fingers linger on his a moment longer than necessary; his hands are so cold, and a familiar pain tightens in her chest. It was a well calculated shot, but she's not infallible and she knows it only too well.
She twists the ring around on her finger as she walks away, only closing her eyes to whisper a silent prayer.
Please, God, let him live.
