Camilla raised the gun with both hands—aiming straight at his forehead.
Megan and Hailey screamed at the same time.
"DON'T—!"
The gunshot cracked through the cave—sharp, final.
Drake's head snapped back. A small, dark hole appeared in the center of his forehead. His eyes went wide for half a second—then rolled back. His body slumped sideways, collapsing into the pool of his own blood with a wet thud.
Camilla stood there—gun still raised, hands shaking, tears pouring down her face.
Megan's voice broke into a raw sob.
"No… Camilla… what did you do…?"
Hailey covered her mouth—horrified, shaking.
Camilla dropped the gun. It clattered to the stone. She fell to her knees beside Drake's body—staring at the hole in his forehead, at the blood slowly spreading beneath his head.
"I… I had to…" she whispered—voice hollow. "I had to…"
I walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Good girl," I said quietly. "You made the right choice."
