Now she would never know. She resignedly stepped forward. The crowd roared. His gaze sprung her heart free: He loved her after all. He winced at her smile; a blade across his chest. He reached for her as the guillotine dropped. Her head rolled, slowly, then rested at his feet.
He counted thirty-three minutes after tires crunched the gravel. Crawling from the closet, he peered through the tinfoiled window. The driver had correctly angled the bin ninety degrees. Holding his breath, he blindly yanked it inside. He quickly locked all three deadbolts. Fighting dizziness, he locked them again. Again. Exhale.