Cole
The sniper rifle felt heavy in my hands, but the weight of it grounded me as I adjusted the scope. My breathing was slow, measured, and steady despite the chaos that raged in my mind. It was early. It was cold, but the target stood in my line of sight, oblivious to the crosshairs trained on him from the building across the street. A little over a month had passed since I had been taken from Chasea and, in that time, I had become consumed by this job. Every detail. Every step of the plan. Everything is so meticulously crafted and executed to perfection. This was it. The final piece. I exhaled slowly as my finger hovered over the trigger. This was the moment I had worked toward. This moment would mark the end of this nightmare. And yet, I hesitated.
“Come on,” I muttered. The man in m
