TURN THEM TO DUST

Jennifer’s drowsy eyes stared at me. Her brows were stained with blood, and the emotion on her face was hard to decipher. ‘I hope she doesn’t see through my act,’ I mumbled to myself. Smiling sadly at her, I bent to her level helping her up. Her blood clung to me staining my clothes. I could feel cameras taking pictures of us, while muttering under their breaths of how much of a saint I was, helping the woman who wished me death. With the help of my driver, I took her in my car. I turned to Jennifer who was already drowsy on the chair as I feigned confusion. “Where is your house Mrs Blackwood? I’ll drop you off, you don’t look so good,” I said innocently. She opened her eyes, calling the location of the Blackwoods mansion. A place I already had engraved at the back of my mind. I forced a smile, turning to my driver, giving him the location. I helped Jennifer in the house, playing the perfect role of a good samaritan. I unwrapped the sleeping pills I had brought with me earlier, putting