Gabriela Olivas Silva, Miami, FL
My ears rang and I could hear Jorik’s voice on the other side of the counter. Then the robber’s.
The gun went off.
Then a scream—a terrible scream—cut short by the sound of… I didn’t want to think about what that sound was. My head hurt too much where I’d whacked it on the counter on my way down. I was going to have a bump, but luckily, that seemed to be my only injury. I’d be fine if my heart wasn’t beating so hard I feared it would explode right out of my chest.
A gun. That asshole had held a gun to my head. He could have… would have…
“Gabriela?”
Jorik’s voice interrupted my panic attack, and I tried to sit up without looking like an i***t, which is what I felt like. That robber had been hanging around here, scoping out the joint, for the last two d
