I didn’t hear the shot, didn’t see the muzzle flash or the recoil. I only felt the bullet ripping into my flesh. That fatal shot had become inevitable from the very moment I’d made the deal. How did I end up here? I thought. What was the deal that led me to take a bullet? Like most things, it had small beginnings. It all started forty-eight hours ago with a toothpick and a dime.
