Nothing happened in the immediate. Seconds went by. Faith found herself counting, “… two … three … four …”

She looked up at Caleb.

Glass shattered. He jerked as if someone had punched him in the shoulder. His expression was a mixture of shock and pain. Faith pushed herself off the floor. She lunged toward Caleb. He pointed the gun at her face. She looked straight into the threaded muzzle, the dark eye of the snubbed barrel, staring back. Rage took hold, burning inside of her, urging her forward. She wanted to kill this man. She wanted to rip open his throat with her teeth. She wanted to cut his heart out of his chest. She wanted to watch the pain in his eyes as she did everything to him that he had done to her mother, her family, their lives.

But she would never get the chance.

The side of Caleb’s head exploded. His arms jerked up. Bullets fired from the Tec-9 brought down a rain of white chalk from the ceiling. Muscle memory. Two pops, close together, one after the other.

Slowly, he collapsed to the ground. The only thing Faith could hear was the sound of his body slamming into the floor. First his hip, then his shoulder, then his head popping against the hard wood. His eyes stayed open. Dark blue. So familiar. So lifeless.

So long.

Faith looked at her mother. Evelyn had managed to prop herself up against the wall. She still held the Glock in her right hand. The muzzle started to tilt down. The weight was too much. She dropped her arm. The gun clattered to the floor.

“Mama …” Faith could barely stand. She half walked, half crawled to her mother. She didn’t know where to touch her, which part of her body wasn’t bruised or broken.

“Come here,” Evelyn whispered. She pulled Faith into her arms. She stroked her back. Faith couldn’t help it. She started to weep like a child. “It’s all right, baby.” Evelyn pressed her lips to the top of Faith’s head. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

WILL TUCKED HIS HANDS INTO HIS POCKETS AS HE WALKED down the hallway to Evelyn Mitchell’s hospital room. He was almost giddy with exhaustion. His vision was so sharp that the world was his Blu-ray. There was a high-pitched whine in his ear. He could feel every pore in his skin. This was why he never drank coffee. Will felt wired enough to power a small city. He had spent the last three nights with Sara. His feet barely touched the ground.

He stopped outside Evelyn’s room, wondering if he should’ve brought flowers. Will had cash in his wallet. He turned around, heading back toward the elevators. He could at least get her a balloon from the gift shop. Everybody liked balloons.

“Hey.” Faith pushed open her mother’s door. “Where are you going?”

“Does your mom like balloons?”

“I’m sure she did when she was seven.”

Will smiled. The last time he’d seen Faith, she was crying in her mother’s arms. She looked a little better now, but not by much. “How’s she doing?”

“Okay. Last night was slightly better than the one before, but the pain is still bad.”

Will could only imagine. Evelyn had been rushed to Grady with a full police escort. She’d been in surgery over sixteen hours. They’d put enough metal in her leg to fill a deluxe erector set.

He asked, “What about you?”

“It’s a lot to take in.” Faith shook her head, as if she still couldn’t make sense of it. “I always wanted another brother, but that was only because I thought he might beat up Zeke.”

“Seems like you can take care of yourself.”

“It’s a lot more work than you’d think.” She leaned her shoulder against the wall. “It must’ve been so hard for her. What she went through. I can’t imagine giving up one of my children. I’d just as soon rip out my heart.”

Will looked over her shoulder at the empty hallway.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about—”

“It’s okay,” he told her. “You know, a surprising number of orphans end up in the penal system.” He gave her some of the better examples. “Albert DeSalvo. Ted Bundy. Joel Rifkin. Son of Sam.”

“I think Aileen Wuornos was given up by her parents, too.”

“I’ll let the others know. It’s good to have a woman on the list.”

She laughed, but obviously her heart wasn’t into it. Will looked over her shoulder again. There was a large nurse with a bouquet of flowers walking down the hall.

Faith said, “I was sure that we weren’t going to make it out of that house.”

There was something in her voice that told him she still wasn’t past what had happened to her family. Maybe she never would be. Some things never left you, no matter how hard you tried.

Will said, “We should really get better codes in case this happens again.”

“I was terrified you wouldn’t understand. Thank God we had all those arguments about changing your phone off military time.”

“Actually, I didn’t understand.” He grinned at her shocked expression. Will had kept his cell on speakerphone while he talked to Faith. Roz Levy had rendered her opinion as soon as the call ended, telling them the room was a clock and that she’d be more than happy to run over there with her Python and take out the punk standing at noon.

Will told Faith, “I’d like to think that I would’ve figured it out eventually.”

“You realize that a blood sugar of eighteen hundred would probably mean I was either dead or in an irreversible coma?”

“Sure, I knew that.”

“Jesus Christ,” she whispered. “So much for our well-oiled machine.”

He felt the need to tell her, “The helicopter was all me. The infrared camera told us where you were, confirmed that his partner was dead.” She didn’t seem impressed, so Will added, “And the lights were my idea.” They’d lined up two squad cars and blasted their xenon lights at the front windows. Caleb’s shadow against the curtains had given them something to aim for.

“Well, thanks anyway for shooting him.” She could obviously read his expression. “Oh, Will, it wasn’t you?”

He let out a long breath. “Amanda promised me she’d give me one of my testicles back if I let her take the shot.”

“I hope you got that in writing. She didn’t exactly hit a bull’s-eye.”

“She blames my rifle. Something about me being left-handed.”

The grip was universal, but Faith didn’t argue. “Well, I’m glad you were there. It made me feel safer.”

He smiled, though he was fairly certain all of this could’ve happened without his presence. Amanda was resourceful, and Will had basically hidden behind a wall while Faith risked her life.

She said, “I’m glad you’re with Sara.”

He fought the silly grin that wanted to come. “I’m just hanging in there until she decides she can do better.”

“I wish I thought you were joking.”

So did Will. He didn’t understand Sara. He didn’t know what made her tick or why she was with him. And yet, she was. And not just that—she seemed to be happy about it. Sara had been smiling so much this morning that she could barely purse her lips to kiss him goodbye. Will had thought maybe some toilet paper was stuck to his face where he’d cut himself shaving, but she’d told him that she was smiling because he made her happy.