"Da... Dad..."
The word barely escaped Lara's lips.
It was so soft, so strained, it sounded less like a voice than the whisper of a frightened ghost.
Her entire body shook.
The pistol felt impossibly heavy in her tiny hands. Her fingers had long since gone numb from gripping it too tightly, yet she dared not let go again.
"Please..."
A sob broke the rest of her sentence.
"Dad..."
She struggled to breathe through her tears.
"Please don't... make me do it..."
Her words dissolved into broken cries. She wasn't looking at the kneeling man anymore.
She couldn't.
If she met his eyes, she knew she would never be able to pull the trigger.
She wanted to wake up.
She wanted someone—anyone—to open the basement door and tell her this had all been a nightmare.
She wanted her mother. She wanted her brother and her sister. She wanted to be anywhere but here.
"Lara."
Artemio's voice cut cleanly through her sobs.
She flinched so violently the gun nearly slipped from her hands again.
