Your mind still tries to process what happened. Where everything went wrong.
It was Anthony, of course. You questioned your own judgement in bringing him along; but two men weren't enough to rob a shack, never mind a mansion. So you ran down a list of names with your partner, Kyle. And it was a list with one name.
Everything had been going perfectly to plan. The old man slept early, a side effect of the pills he took. Always in bed by seven, ten past at the latest. Kyle had watched the place for two months in planning; according to him, an earthquake couldn't wake the guy when he dropped off.
To be on the safe side, you broke in at five to midnight, using the key stolen from him a week ago. The three of you went through every crack in the living room across two minutes, finding less than a hundred pounds.
You planned this for months, you were going to get what you needed from it. The three of you split, Kyle searching the ground floor a second time, you working on the basement, and Anthony going top.
It was then that you heard a gunshot.