HAZEL Chapter 83 | 7:51 PM, December 9, 2006 | Tarson, Georgia

I RACE ALONG THE BANK of the river, my gaze trained upward on the beam of light swinging across the ledge above, and I hear a man shout. Ama is kneeling on the bank. Michael looks down at the river, leaning out. He’s going to jump. If he hits the water, they’ll never catch him.

He lurches forward a step. I lift the gun, bend my knees, and keep my arms bent, too, and peer over the barrel of the gun.

I’ll keep both eyes open, Bill, I promise.

Suddenly I am grateful I used the dark of that hole to imagine shooting Michael one hundred million times.

His arms fly up, his body completely exposed. I train the sight on him dead center. Ama’s hand claws at a pant leg, but she won’t stop him.

Exhale.

Steady.

Trigger.