The pieces fell into place, cold and sharp.

Every person in this house had been a pawn in his game to keep his funding.

Lorenzo raised the gun until it was level with Halloran’s forehead.

“You are a monster, Julian,” Lorenzo said.

“Lorenzo, please,” Halloran gasped, dropping to his knees on the wet gravel. “I can help him. I have the antidote in the car. The real formula.”

“We don’t need your formula,” I said. “We have the clean milk now. He is already getting better.”

Halloran looked up at me, his face twisted in disbelief.

“You,” he whispered. “You ruined everything.”

“She saved my son,” Lorenzo said.

He pulled the slide back on the gun, the metallic click echoing in the quiet night.

Halloran flinched, covering his head with his hands.

“Please,” Halloran begged. “Don’t do this here.”

“I should kill you where you stand,” Lorenzo said.

The wind blew a gust of dead leaves across the driveway, scratching against the iron gate.

I looked at Lorenzo’s hand.

His knuckles were white, but his arm was perfectly steady.