By the time they reached it, Teresa was trembling. She knelt before Gregory and took his cold hands in hers.
“Sir,” she said softly. “I know you can move. I saw you shift your fingers yesterday when you thought no one watched. I understand why you stayed silent. I will protect you until the right moment comes.”
Gregory closed his eyes, a single tear mixing with the rain.
Headlights suddenly pierced the darkness. The black sedan rolled up to the bus stop. Bianca and Peter stepped out, Peter holding a gun.
“Sign,” Peter shouted. “Or the girl dies.”
Teresa stepped in front of the twins, lifting her chin.
“Then shoot me,” she said. “But you will not touch these children.”
Something inside Gregory snapped. The performance was over.
“Stay away from my family,” he thundered, his voice strong and clear.
In one powerful motion, Gregory stood from the wheelchair. He moved faster than anyone expected, knocking the gun aside. The shot fired into a metal post with a ringing echo. Peter stumbled backward as Gregory struck him to the ground.
Sirens approached, blue lights reflecting across wet pavement. Neighbors had called the police after hearing the gunshot.