Silent Weapon. Debra Webb

      He got into his nondescript black sedan, which he’d parked behind mine, and drove away.

      I stood on my porch for a long while after that, just thinking. He was right. So was my family. I had taken several huge risks in the past few days. But the risks had been necessary to get the job done. I was no naive kid. I had been willing to take them. Why was it they added up to nothing? Didn’t count?

      What was it going to take to make people realize that I couldn’t just fade into the background? I would never be happy simply existing.

      There had to be more.

      I wouldn’t accept any other scenario.

      Maybe I was in over my head, but that’s exactly where I wanted to be.