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A secret that would go with him to the grave

Tom's POV

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" I muttered as I stormed into the study, my body trembling like a damned leaf in autumn. What the hell? What the actual hell? I could see it all over again, playing over and over in my damned mind.

Barlow.

The gun.

The kid on the floor. The blood around him.

Dammit!

I let out a growl, marching towards my desk to pour the contents to the ground. My hands trembled as I shoved it all to the ground, watching the perfect set of stationeries fall to the ground. The noise was a bit comforting. It drowned the crazy sounds in my head for a while.

The sounds that called me names.

Murderer! Killer!

"I didn't kill him," I scoffed at the voice but there was that damned tremor. That shaking of my voice as I denied what my head and heart decided to be true. "I didn't kill him, I didn't!"

My words came out as a whisper. I glanced down at the blood on my shirt. I hadn't known it was there. I thought I had gotten rid of the evidence by destroying the coat.

I
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