Murder.

Sheela leaned forward slowly. Her breathing was quick, tough, sharp! She stared deep into the window and saw photographs lining the wall. It was a second’s job, she told herself. She knew she could do it. It would soon be over.

A drop of sweat lined the side of her face. She was ready. The instrument was stiff in her hands, steady as a hunting mouse. Ready for the kill.

She looked away for a while and gathered strength. It had to be done. It had to be done. Now.

Click.

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