The Sniper Behind The Rifle Knew My Breathing Better Than I Did

trying to compute the impossible. Sean. My brother, Sean, was standing right there.

He looked older, of course. Leaner. The boyish grin I remembered was gone, replaced by a hardness around his eyes I recognized because I saw it in my own mirror every morning.

“What are you talking about?” My voice was a broken whisper. “What order?”

Kesler took a step continue reading …