Page 117 of The Circle

Andra is crying again, more loudly, as I look to the side and see the chauffeurs drop to the ground.

One. Two. Drop. Drop.

Zander dashes to pick up one of their discarded weapons and points it in the direction the sniper’s bullets came from.

“Father!”

When I look up, I can see Christine’s head behind the scope. And to the side of her I see Danny struggling against the one called Anton.

As Zander points the submachine gun toward Christine, she lifts her head up.

Don’t,I will at her, silently. Don’t give him a larger target to aim for.

Why would she do that?

And then I realize why.

She’s looking to me.

She catches my eye.

I can make out from this distance that she’s looking for something from me.

Not permission exactly. But confirmation.

Confirmation that this is what is wanted. What is needed. To complete the journey.

That after this long, winding, brutal, painful, glorious, tragic, uniquely ours road we’ve traveled, that landing here, in a version of the place where we started, is right.

Isthis the right place to do what must be done?

Isthis what we need to make ourselves complete in some indescribable way?

Isthis the end?

It is an impossible question to answer.

But I believe it is.

I believe it is indeed.

So I nod. Ever so faintly.

And she pulls the trigger.