Then they both turn their heads as though called by someone Arrow can’t see, and she knows the time to fire has come. Nothing has made a decision for her, so Arrow simply chooses one. If there’s a reason, if it’s because one shot is easier, or one of them reminds her of someone she once knew and liked or didn’t like, or one of them seems more dangerous than the other, she can’t say. The only certainty is that she exhales and her finger goes from resting on the trigger to squeezing it, and a bullet breaks the sound barrier an instant before pulping fabric, skin, bone, flesh, and organ,
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