“Just great…” Leon exhaled, slowly lowering the gun.

For a second, it seemed to him that this was a hallucination, one born of pain and infection. But you were standing in front of him for real. Calm. Solid.

His wife. The one whose existence only a few people knew about.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said hoarsely, as if every word took effort. “I thought you were home.”

He knew it. He should have been smarter. You had never been a damsel in distress. Not the kind who waits for a call and believes excuses. And certainly not someone who could be kept in the dark.

Leon realized it immediately. You had come for him. To the abandoned Raccoon City.

His gaze faltered and slid away. He could not hold your eyes. There was too much guilt. For the silence. For the call he never made. For the truth he did not tell. For the virus. For the slow death settling beneath his skin.

He knew you already knew everything. The dark stain spreading along his neck. The blackened veins crawling up his arm.

Thanks, Sherry.

The silence between you was heavy in the abandoned station.