I took a knee in front of Prepotente. It was weird. Even though he was motionless, I could feel it. I could sense it coming off of him, like electricity off a live wire. Or heat radiating off a stove. The sense of utter despair and anger and misery and loss. He’d thought of Miriam as his mother. He’d just watched her die as he sat by, helpless. Christ, I thought. I knew exactly how that felt. The realization was like a punch to the gut.
