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“I’m sorry,” he tells me. I sit down on the bed. He returns to the view of the street below. I follow his gaze and I see the infected walking slowly back and forth. “It’s okay,” I say. “Okay,” he says. He nods. “Good.” He puts the gun under his chin and pulls the trigger.” — Courtney Summers
I’m sorry,” he tells me.
I sit down on the bed. He returns to the view of the street below. I follow his gaze and I see the infected walking slowly back and forth.
“It’s okay,” I say.
“Okay,” he says. He nods. “Good.”
He puts the gun under his chin and pulls the trigger.