It’s not the first time I’ve had a gun to my head, and I can tell she— Harlow—is more scared than I am.1 A given, since I’m not scared at all. Her hand under mine is trembling, and all I want to do in this moment—and for the rest of my fucking life—is to take that tremble away. Chase away her boogeymen, slay her monsters, settle all her fears.
