We travel the rest of the way home in silence. Mark doesn't seem at all affected by what happened just a few minutes ago, while I struggle to stop shaking like a Parkinson's patient. As much as I try to find Mark the reason why he is so relaxed, nothing comes to my mind except that he is used to it. But again... How many times do you have to do this to get used to it? And when do you realize you've done too much? How do you sleep at night knowing that you took the life of a man who, perhaps, also has a family at home?
-Mark... This lifestyle is not for me. I say, before I know it. It's way too…gory for me. I was not raised with such... teachings as you.
- I know, angel. I'm sorry you had to see this.
-Mark, if you care about me at all, if you think I'm your friend, then you wil
