Leonard.
The hospital room was quiet except for the rhythmic beep of the monitor and the soft, steady sound of Theresa's breathing as sleep finally claimed her.
The fury that had blazed in her eyes had left her exhausted, and the moment her eyelids fluttered shut, the three of us stepped silently out into the corridor.
The silence that fell over us the second the door closed was heavy, suffocating, and charged with an icy, dangerous tension.
"She wasn't joking," Lurgard said softly, his voice stripped of every bit of his usual humor, as he stared down at his large, trembling hands. "God damn it, Leonard… she wasn't playing with us."
"I know," I replied, my voice dropping into a low, lethal tone. "The moment she looked at us with that look in her eyes...I felt it in my soul."
