Rigor mortis had already set in but she managed to pry the piece of paper from the victims cold, lifeless hand.
She looked into his eyes, saw how they were cloudy and grey, like a sky on a stormy night. She felt like he was watching her, judging her. “Pardon, Monsieur” she whispered, genuinely remorseful, as she heaved the knife out of his bloated chest. She began to walk down the streets of Fran...