Word Count: 100
His feet moved below him, the coffee cup hot in his hand.
Could he trust this? Could he trust the prayer rolling around like a litany in his head?
Everyone survived, miraculously. All three of them were going to walk out of this place.
we won’t fight anymore.
They still had the colt and the bullet. They could still track down the demon.
I don’t know...I don’t know.
The car could be fixed, damn it. They still had Dad’s truck if it couldn’t be.
But maybe, just maybe...
The coffee cup slipped from his hand.