The rain fell.

“I’m gonna give you one last chance.” said the man in the black fedora.
“Please, stop this!” She cried out.
“You can give me all the chances in the world, it ain’t gonna change what’s gonna happen.” The young man from New York was adamate.

The man’s face turned from stern to somber, “Is that right?”

“Yeah. That’s right.”

There was no turning back now. No escaping fate. An immovable object against a unstopable force.

A shot rang. The rain fell. The young man with the Brooklyn accent died. She cried.