The silence in the hallway was so absolute that I could hear the faint, frantic ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room. Fifteen minutes. That was all it would take for the illusion of Daniel’s power to completely evaporate.
Daniel stared at my wrist, his face draining of color. The arrogant sneer he had worn just moments ago melted into a mask of pure, unfiltered panic. He took a half-step toward me, his hands raising not in violence this time, but in a desperate, trembling plea.
“You… you didn’t actually call them,” he stammered, his voice cracking. “Tell me you didn’t call them. If the police come here, my career is over. You know the morality clause at my firm. They’ll fire me before I even make bail.”
I leaned the back of my head against the cool drywall, fighting the agonizing, sharp spasms in my chest with every shallow breath I took. “Then you shouldn’t have hit me, Daniel.”