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His grandfather had conjured nightmares of hellfire licking at his feet. “The devil will catch you,” he said to young Aaron, only four years old. “You can’t run. He’ll catch you and never let you go.”
I won’t run then, Aaron wanted to say. His father’s eye on him, however, Aaron said nothing.
It stayed with him; he did not seek sin. He didn’t rush in head first, foolhardy and without a care. He planned and waited.
When Hamilton’s body hit the ground, Aaron understood what his grandfather had meant.
The devil had caught him long ago without giving chase.