Chapter 8 - The Tearing of the Seal
David was completely oblivious to Elena’s arrival. The world had shrunk down to the two-inch square of yellowed paper in his trembling fingers. Slowly, with agonizing hesitation, he brought his left hand up and began to pry open the tight folds. The paper made a sharp, dry crinkling sound that echoed in his ears like a crack of thunder. The first fold came open, revealing a glimpse of dark blue ink. Then the second. His heart was slamming against his ribs so violently it caused his vision to pulse around the edges. As the page was fully unfolded in his palm, his eyes locked onto the handwriting. It was written in blue ballpoint pen, the lines pressed so hard into the paper that they had almost torn through the fiber. The script was jagged, hurried, and wildly erratic—a violent, distinct handwriting he had seen on hundreds of manic notes left on his kitchen counter half a decade ago. It was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, Rebecca’s hand. The blood drained so completely from David’s face that his skin took on the gray hue of slate. A loud, high-pitched ringing filled his ears, drowning out the gentle breeze and the rustling leaves. The note contained only a single sentence, but it possessed the destructive payload of an atomic bomb, instantly obliterating the floor beneath his feet.
