Sparks Fly | ✓

0:26

She couldn't fathom what was transpiring in reality, as time stood still for her — her mind replaying that godforsaken incident like a broken record. He picked up the gun. He pointed it at her. He placed it against his temple. He pulled the trigger.

Life felt like it was in slow motion for her, as Michael and Logan rushed in, Mike immediately going to Amaru's body, and Logan frantic in front of Shane.

"What happened? Did you call 911!?" he repeatedly asked, but she remained mute, just looking right on the spot he was previously seated in, the spot she found him in.

"Ayo, are you deaf or something?" Mike yelled at her, frustration evident in his voice as he tried to determine whether Amaru still had a pulse.

"I think she's in shock Mike," Logan responded in pure sympathy, "I don't think she called, I don't see her phone in her hand,"

"Shane," he tried to wave his hand in front of her face, but he got no response, which honestly squeezed his heart.

He quickly took out his phone, dialing 911 whilst keeping his eyes both on Shane and Amaru's body.

Hendrichs immediately rushed into the room, the sight before him stopping him in his tracks. His heart stopped for a split second as he looked at the blood pouring out of Amaru's head, moisture clouding his eyesight. He let out a breath, gathering his thoughts, and simultaneously closing his eyes, using his thumbs to remove what seemed to be tears.

"I don't think I feel a pulse," Mike commented, as tears ran out of his eyes, holding Amaru in his arms, "I—,"

"Shane," Hendrichs called out to her, removing his attention from Amaru's body, so he could attend to Shane since no one else was.

"Hey, it's okay. It's gonna be okay," he slowly approached her, touching her shoulders. He said all this but could not begin to believe it because who witnesses someone taking their life, and remains sain.

He carefully led her out of the main bedroom into Amaru's to avoid her listening to Mike cry, hear Logan dealing with the 911 operatives, and see him in the state he was in. He stood in front of her, having closed the door behind him.

"Please," his eyes searched hers continuously, but he could see that she was hidden somewhere, "I want you to know it's not your fault,"

He remained silent, giving her mind time to allow his voice to enter, before he gently touched the sides of her face, looking right into her soul.

"Hey, you're okay," he gently told her, and suddenly he saw her eyes frantically move from side to side. Her breath suddenly staggered, as hot tears immediately left her eyes.

"It's okay. You're fine," he told her, letting go of her face, just in case she was uncomfortable with it. She left out a groan, facing away from Hendrichs as it felt like a knife sliced through her heart.

"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh.my.gosh!" a sob broke out of her lips as her hands trembled.

"I tried—," she turned, looking at Hendrichs, so she could try and explain.

"It's not your fault," he reiterated, interrupting her attempted apology.

"And he pulled his gun, he pulled it at me," she touched her chest, a gut wrenching pain running through her at the thought, she looked at him, "at me Hendrichs, me."

At this he kept quiet, he was quite appalled, but he also knew that she needed to let it out as much as possible.

"And he…he…he," she stuttered, not sure how she could say the next part, "he pulled the trigger. Nigga shot himself in front of me. Of me!"