Chapter 4

There were some shuffling sounds coming from the hallway as several people peered into the room, shocked at first by the sound of a single gunshot, then secondarily taken aback at the scene within: a young man kneeling over a girl, holding a bloody knife in his hand, the girl on the floor in an expanding pool of blood, and me, standing literally with a smoking gun in my hand, my genitals exposed, my shirt bloody.

“She’s dead. You ... you killed her,” said Jarden, looking up at me and then the growing crowd. I was speechless.

A moment or so later, campus security arrived, two young men thoroughly unprepared for the scene that greeted them. Pulling their revolvers, they stammeringly ordered both of us inside the room to drop our weapons. Jarden carefully laid his down on the ground. I was stunned by the recent turn of events and looked blankly at them, finally complying after the third demand, my revolver clattering loudly on the linoleum floor.

Both Jarden and I were then cuffed and seated, one guard checking Lisa for a pulse while the other contacted a supervisor via his walkie-talkie, requesting back-up, ambulances, and quite possibly the National Guard for all I paid attention.