For a split second, I saw pure terror flow in Harlow's eyes before it vanished, and he returned to his seemingly usual emotionless state while looking from his arm, which had been pinned to the wall by his sleeve, and then to me.
"Medically speaking, what you have said is impossible; I don't believe it for a second…" Before he could finish his statement with arrogance-laced words, he noticed that the syringe filled with morphine, which had been in his hand a second ago, was now in mine.
"Nothing is impossible; in fact, I have been known to make the so-called impossible possible more than once." Gingerly twirling the syringe filled with Harlow's killing method, I used my free hand to pull up the sleeve of my left arm, exposing my pale flesh to the light.
