He drove his daughter to school and marveled at what a wonderful fucking day it was. The weather was cold, but winter was finally breaking. The sky wa... clear and sunny. And he had his daughter completely under his sway. Nothing could ruin the happiness he felt, a happiness he hadn't felt in years, if ever.Until he got to work, that is.The current jobsite his crew was working on was an old, dilapidated mini-mall they were charged with demolishing. George always enjoyed demolition jobs, but this. None of it was true. She lived in a three bedroom suburban house with a husband called Charles and a blonde headed daughter with dimples. Cecily wasn't a spy! She'd never been to a war zone. She was a psychologist like it said on the door. She was a fake and a plant and it was a test: an interview. Everything about her was an invention.That's what he told himself as he pushed her against the tree and scooped up the hammer, and immediately he saw the terror in her eyes and knew he was right.. More

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