Shit, shit, shit. Naomi rubbed her face, ran her fingers through her hair, and grabbed a lock of it.

He knew.

If she went through with her plan, he'd never forgive her. Not even if he knew the whole truth. In his naivety, he'd think there was another way, that she didn't have to do this.

As if she hadn't already explored every option over the past two decades!

She bit her lip, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She built a wall between her feelings. She'd figure out how to handle things with Foss later.

But right now, time was running out. Hana wasn't a patient woman, and Naomi had already wasted several days doubting and making excuses. She hadn't found much information about Happy. He didn't seem to be married, and he'd recently bought a house.

That didn't mean he lived there alone.

Still, she hoped he did. Not just because it would make things go more smoothly, but also because it would spare his loved ones from unnecessary heartache. She didn't want to cause more suffering than necessary.

It was time to go. She grabbed the things she'd already prepared, locked the house, and got into her car. First, she'd observe his house, then check around his workplace. Though she didn't think he'd recognize her right away, she'd put on a hoodie to hide in the shadows of her hood.

It was a dreary day, which didn't help her mood. The windshield wipers made a squeaky sound that only irritated her more. She'd be so glad when this job was over. Impatient, she pressed the gas pedal and sped through a puddle, soaking a cyclist. She felt no sympathy.

There were worse things.

Like killing the person who had once been your rock.

On her way to Charming, she decided to change her approach. She didn't want to break into his house at night or shoot him in some secluded spot. She would tell him the truth, just before driving the knife into his heart, so he'd understand why he was dying. He deserved that. It made things a hundred times harder for her, though. From the shadows, she could avoid dealing with her emotions. But she believed she owed him this. If she didn't do it, she might never be at peace with herself.

Naomi parked in front of his house. It had been so long since she'd seen him that she couldn't even picture his place. Like him, he came from a poor family, so it didn't surprise her that his house looked rundown. Even if he wasn't struggling to pay bills, she didn't think he was the type to live in a fancy house.

She closed the back door behind her. A strange smell hung in the air. She walked to the black, hip-high gate surrounding the overgrown garden and pressed down on the latch. The chances of him being home on a Wednesday morning were slim. Maybe she was here more to get a sense of him than to actually expect to find him.

The grass that had overtaken most of the garden was trampled as if a lot of people had been standing there. Strange. She walked closer to the door, and the smell grew stronger. It smelled like something had burned. Her eyes scanned the front window, and she stopped. What she'd thought was a curtain covering the window turned out to be... ashes. Through the flakes, she saw charred curtains.

She froze. Had there been a fire? She pulled out her phone and searched for reports in the area. There it was. The fire department had been called to this street the previous night. She lowered her phone, stunned.

Was this a coincidence? Or a warning from Hana to hurry up? But she still had a few days! Or... She pressed her lips together. Foss! Had he done this to mess with her?

She could see him doing it. And it was clear he wasn't happy with her assignment. He knew she often did the job at her target's house. It was a smart, irritating move—one that also would make Happy more cautious.

Cursing under her breath, she tucked her phone back in her pocket. You leave me no choice, kid.