I stood in Gairloch's kitchen and watched the colors go by. In direct response to witnessing Logan's murder, I was in some altered state where the world turned psychedelic and everything moved in slow motion. My hand was no exception. It moved in slow motion back and forth before my face, trying to catch the brilliant blues and pinks that floated seductively in front of me. I figured this was how condemned people see the world, almost halfway to heaven in the clouds.

I noticed ...