I felt like I was floating above it all, watching the chaos unfold in slow motion. The restaurant staff scrambled to assist Samantha, trying to make her comfortable while waiting for the ambulance. Their voices were a cacophony of concern and urgency, but I heard none of it. Instead, my mind was a torrent of conflicting emotions. Fear. Anger. Triumph. Guilt.
My eyes flicked to James, who was still on his knees beside his sister. His expression was a mask of dread, but I knew him too well; the fear wasn’t just for Samantha. It was for himself. I wondered how long it would take for him to make the connection, for him to realize that I had outmaneuvered him. How does it feel, James, to be on the losing side for once?
