Laura yanked open her purse and reached for what she had concealed in the black shawl. With the apathy of a raging tornado, she approached Alex, aiming the gun at his upper body. Sweat saturated her brows and dripped into her eyes. Spouting vile curse words under her breath, she used the sleeve of her mauve blouse to clear her blurred vision. As she was about to pull the trigger, she heard a heavy voice, and snapped her head away from Alex towards the door, but she didn’t see anyone. She halted momentarily to gather her thoughts. Facing her target, her hands shook uncontrollably as her body trembled. Inching closer to Alex, Laura prepared to fire. This time a powerful, masculine voice commanded, “Not your will, but my will be done!” Laura fell to her knees and crawled back to her purse. In a panic, she scrambled around on the floor, trying to wrap the gun in the scarf and conceal it in her purse. Because her snot-filled nostrils restrained her ability to breathe, she opened her mouth and panted like an exhausted sprinter, all the while trying to lift herself from the frigid hospital floor.