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My stomach dropped.

A metal fuel can.

“Neither were mine.” He said coldly.

“No…” The whisper escaped before I knew it.

The kneeling man sobbed now.

Not for himself.

For someone else.

The camera shifted. The fuel splashed across the ground.

I squeezed my eyes for a second.

Then I forced them open.

The man’s hand disappeared into his coat.

A match.

My pulse thundered.

No.

No.

NO!

The flame flared.

For the briefest heartbeat it lit the side of his face.

Enough.

I shook my head.

Enough to destroy me.

Alaric…

The match touched the ground… and the screen erupted into light.

The video ended.

Black.

Silence.

I didn’t move.

I couldn’t.

The phone slipped lower in my trembling hands. I stared at my own reflection in the blood smeared dark screen. Unable to breathe. Unable to think. Unable to reconcile the man who had me breakfast…

… with the man I’d just watched set the world on fire.