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Mitchell’s gun is drawn, and fear is ripping its claws into my chest. I wouldn’t die from a gunshot, of course, but if he does shoot me, they’ll all see evidence of my strength.

And they will never let me keep it.

Assuming I even survive this, I will become weak Julia again.

Imprisoned in the hell of her own coding.

The thought is so awful I can’t bear it.

Unless I kill them all.

I count the policemen. Eight, all armed.

I think of the way Mitchell has suspected me from the start, just because I’m different. The way he’s looked at me like I’m a smear of shit he’d like to wipe off his boot. The way he’s delighted in every twist that’s brought me closer to condemnation.

I clench my fists. I roll my shoulders.

Maybe I’ll even enjoy it.