Augustine stood at the parking lot of the hospital under the weight of the incident pressing down on him like a boulder. His thoughts were a chaotic storm of rage, guilt, and fear. The image of Megan charging at Anne with a knife kept coming to his mind.
His jaw clenched as he ran a hand through his hair, trying to outrun his own thoughts.
He had done everything to secure the place, stationed extra guards, and checked every entry point. He thought everything was under control and that no mishap would happen at the event.
Yet somehow, Megan had slipped in. She had disguised herself, walked right under their noses, and turned the festive mood into a nightmare.
A sick feeling twisted in his gut as he replayed the moment.
He lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and let the smoke fill his lungs. His eyes burned with fury.
"Fuck," he muttered, the smoke coming out of his mouth and nose.
