I didn’t rescue her to wither away to nothing while she wallowed in …whatever it was she was wallowing in. ‘I said I don’t want anything.’ �...�I’ll go make you a quesadilla, and then we can talk.’ She looked away from me when I said ‘talk.’ I rose, not wanting to leave, but somehow not wanting to stay either. I made my way to the empty kitchen and cooked her up a quick quesadilla. Danielle always liked those, or at least seemed to like them when I made them. ‘Here you go.’ I set the plate down on. My senses returned slowly, and it seemed like forever before I could comprehend the situation.It was like that fucking movie, The Fugitive; Dr. Richard Kimble, on his way to State Prison to be executed, saved by a train wreck, given the opportunity to find the real killer and to save his own life. Of course, he was innocent, and I was not. On the other hand, he had been headed for execution for murder, whereas I was only facing seven life sentences-to run consecutively, not concurrently-fuck. More

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