52 - I Promise

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"Promises may be simple words, but when fulfilled, they create a beautiful melody of trust."

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Kenobi's gaze remained steady as he asked, "Are you completely sure he never disclosed your identity to anyone else?" I stood in silence, watching as a coroner carefully placed the body into a bag, while the CSI team worked quickly to remove every trace of blood from the floor. The sterile scent of antiseptic mingled with the metallic tang of blood, creating an atmosphere that felt both surreal and suffocating.

I nodded, the shock still lingering within me. "Yes, I'm sure. He was calling Anakin when I—" My voice faltered, my head lowering. The memory of the confrontation replayed in my mind like a broken record, each frame more vivid than the last. I could still hear the crack of the gunshot echoing in my ears, the flash of the weapon illuminating the dimly lit room, and the look on his face as I pressed the trigger.

With a comforting hand on my shoulder, Kenobi said, "Your actions were necessary; it was self-defense. He had a gun, and you had every reason to believe your life was in danger." His tone felt almost rehearsed, as if he were preparing me for the inevitable questions from our superiors.

"Self-defense," I repeated, the phrase tasting bitter on my tongue. It felt like a flimsy shield against the reality of what had just happened. I had taken a life, and no amount of justification could erase the enormity of that act.

The fluorescent lights above cast harsh shadows across the floor, and I found myself staring at the bloodstains that would soon be scrubbed away, remnants of a moment that would haunt me forever.

Kenobi's eyes softened, and I could see the empathy etched into the lines of his face. "You did what you had to do. Sometimes, in this line of work, we are forced into impossible situations. It's not about the choices we wish we had; it's about the choices we make in the heat of the moment." His words were meant to comfort, but they felt like a double-edged sword, cutting through my resolve while simultaneously offering a lifeline.

"I never wanted anything like this to happen," I said, my voice trembling with the enormity of my regret. "I didn't want to pull that trigger again." Taking a life was a burden I had never wished to bear, especially when the victim was a man who seemed to have lived a life free of malice. As far as I could tell, he had never harmed anyone, never crossed the line into criminality—unless you counted that one speeding ticket, which he had received while rushing to pick up his daughter from daycare. I knew this because I had ran background checks on everyone before stepping into that place. He was merely a guard dog.

"Why don't you go to your room, take a shower, and try to rest? I'll handle everything else out here," Kenobi urged, gently guiding me through the living room, his insistence a desperate attempt to get me away from the source of my guilt.

The adrenaline that had fueled me through the night was fading and I was exhausted, so I didn't argue. I nodded, though my heart felt like a lead weight in my chest, and allowed him to guide me down the dimly lit hallway toward my room.

As I stepped inside, I shut the door firmly behind me and leaned against it, releasing a long, weary sigh. Just moments later, my phone buzzed insistently in my pocket. I fished it out, my stomach twisted into a deep knot when I saw the name flashing on the screen: Anakin.

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