“You better pray to God your father comes through, because if he doesn’t, I’ll be all too happy to break your fucking neck.” His lashes fluttered, but he didn’t look afraid. Instead, he laughed, his white teeth outlined by blood. I squeezed harder, but he didn’t stop laughing, even when he was gasping for air. “Just kill me then,” he rasped. His watery eyes found mine and stayed locked in place, not fearful, not angry — resigned. A memory I’d long since buried flashed to the forefront of my mind, another blue-eyed boy staring up at me, waiting to die.
