Short story: Haste

Time froze. That fraction of a second Stan shared with Leah lasted long enough for her life to fly by before her eyes.

“Run!” his whisper was gentle, but firm.

“No, I can’t, not without you!” she opposed.

“I’ll be fine,” Stan sounded less convincing than a bad preacher. “Don’t worry about me, you must make it!”

“Thank you…” Leah softly squeezed his hand.

Stan nodded, “Take care, run now!”

She could not miss the plane. The head start he gave her must be enough, he hoped, walking out, holding her handcuffs.

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