Three days had passed.
It felt like an eternity.
Adam, he left you. Just like every other person.
He only wanted to help me.
No, he left. Like the others who wanted to help you. He left.
The grip he had on the mop tightened; Amanda's voice was convincing. He argued that he was probably busy.
She said he didn't care.
He could be interviewing another person.
They had no other people.
"Adam?" It was a boy he worked with. Instinctively, he turned away, his eyes to the floor.
Let me take over. Amanda was quick to jump at the opportunity. It was mid-afternoon but no one came around at this time. Not here.
No.His eye twitched. "Yes?"
Avoid his gaze. He'll go away. He will.
"You okay? You've seemed kind of jumpy lately." A gentle hand rest on his shoulder, making him flinch.
It felt wrong. He only wanted one person to touch him.
He turned slowly, eyebrows turned down as he studied the fingers. Wide eyes met with his co-workers. The eyes the other saw had changed. Deadly. Feminine. Amanda.
Faintly, she heard Adam pleading her to stop.
She smiled, death written on her lips. "You think you can touch me?" The Southern accent surprised the man.
He stepped back, a look of utter confusion on his face.
The smile left.
She raised her arm, ignoring the satisfying crack of the mop against bone. Ignoring the blood.
The mop clattered to the floor.
Adam stared at the boy on the ground, heart racing. Sweaty palms.
The release wasn't the same anymore.