Dzinski didn’t remember his run in with the kids the night before until he’d finished his second cup of coffee. And then, he couldn’t remember if he’d actually shot them.
There was a moment when he thought he didn’t care if he had.
Then he panicked and ran to the bedroom to find his piece. It wasn’t in the holster hanging on the bed post, and it wasn’t in his jacket. Not on the night stand or under his pillow or in the cupboard with the glasses. Dzinski finally found it in the bathroom’s medicine cabinet.
It had been fired.