He should be here by dawn.”

I went to the chapel at the end of the corridor.

I had not been inside a chapel since my mother’s funeral fifteen years earlier.

I sat on the last bench and stared at a simple wooden cross.

There were things I could not pray away.

I had threatened competitors, paid men to frighten other men, and taught myself that fear was just another instrument.

I had justified every decision by saying I never touched innocents.