As soon as the bullet left the chamber, I regretted my decision.
Time helpfully slowed down, as I was able to see every fiery powder speck drift from the barrel as the surprisingly small piece of lead began to move, as if drifting on a gentle breeze, through the air.
I was unable to move a muscle, due to this being a split second or out of guilty fear, or both, or neither, I don’t know for sure. All I know is that I pulled the trigger.
The bullet slammed into her chest.
Where her lucky pendant always hanged.