"Just - just calm down, man. Take it easy," the store-owner said, his voice trembling slightly.

Henry had got up slightly hungover that day, and considered taking a sick day. Just not opening the store. As he looked down the gun pointed at his face, his grogginess and nausea vanished. He felt wide awake for the first time in years.

"Shut up, Henry. Shut. Up."

The robber shot at the ceiling, before pointing it back at Henry's face. Henry shuddered, and kept his mouth shut. The man was out of his mind, he decided. His face was flushed, his green eyes unnaturally bright in the dim store. There was a haunted, urgent look to his eyes.

Slowly, something besides the fear broke through Henry's thoughts.

"How did you know my name?" he said.

"Henry Flint," the man hissed, pressing the gun painfully into Henry's throat. "Look at you. Hiding out in a dirty store in the middle of nowhere. Took a while to find you."

There was something familiar about the man's eyes. That shade of green - hadn't he seen it before? Henry swallowed painfully, and remembered.

"Kathy? You're related to Kathy?" he blurted out. He tried to object as he saw the man's eyes widen at the sound of the name, saw his mouth twist in fury. Too late.

The man let out a strangled scream, and pulled the trigger.

He stepped away hastily as blood began to spread across the rough wooden floor, and quickly left the store. It was pure luck no-one else had been in there. All his careful plans had vanished the moment he saw Henry's lumbering form unlock the front door. His meaty hands wrapped around the keys. Imaging what else those hands must have done.

"Shit," he spat once outside, running to get into his car.

He shouldn't have killed him so quickly. There had been three guys. Three guys killed his twin, the police had all but confirmed it. He agonised for a minute, then ran back into the store, stripping Henry of all valuables. He sped away, tightly clutching Henry's phone in his lap. No way the men who had helped Henry had been mere acquaintances. Whoever they were, at least one of them was on his contact list. Or someone who knew someone. And he never repeated a mistake. Next time, no-one would die - at least not quickly.