She looked worse than the Quechua on the corner, she thought, staring in the bathroom mirror. Who was the tormented woman reflected in the glass, her eyes so empty and flat?

Emma turned away from the reflection and began to scrub her hands. She couldn’t wash away her thoughts, though. Reaching for a towel, she dried her fingers and brought the damp cloth to her forehead, patting it feebly.

She’d just sacrificed her future to keep her children safe. It was the ultimate irony, she thought, shaking her head. To protect them, she’d had to give away any chance she’d ever have to be with them again. To have a normal life, to be their mother. She’d flushed it all away, and no one would ever understand why. No one but Raul.

She gripped the edge of the counter and swayed slightly. His life was at stake, too, and even though she knew she should hate him for what he’d done, she couldn’t. She actually understood. But that didn’t mean she could forgive him. He’d used her and nothing would ever make that right.

Nothing.

She made one more swipe across her face with the towel, then dropped it on the counter and reached into her pocket for the tube of lipstick she’d brought with her. The slash of color she applied to her lips looked garish and overdone under the harsh fluorescence. She wiped some of it off, then tried again, but the result was the same. A made-up corpse would have looked better.

What did it matter? She left the bathroom, thinking the look was actually pretty appropriate. After all, that was what she was, wasn’t she? A walking dead woman?

She went straight to her desk, collected her purse, then told Felicity she was leaving.

“See you Monday,” the receptionist said.

Emma stared at the woman for a few seconds, then turned and walked out of the lobby without saying a word. See you Monday? She didn’t think so.

In a nauseous daze, she flagged down the first cab she could. When she reached her house, she went inside and headed for the living room. She made only one stop-at the chest just inside the room. She opened the top drawer and reached inside, her shaking hands gripping the package she’d hidden there a few days before.

Taking the first chair she came to, she sat down to wait. It wouldn’t take long, she was sure.

SLOUCHED BEHIND the wheel of a beat-up red Passport outside the bank, Raul straightened as he saw Emma leave. He glanced at his watch in surprise. It was early-barely lunchtime. Emma never left before six. Was it finally going down?

In the past week, he’d actually watched Emma fade. She’d lost a visible amount of weight, and the circles under her eyes had grown darker and darker. She looked like a ghost as she drifted down the sidewalk and held out her hand to hail a taxi. Her dark dress hung on her like a sack, and her skin had a greenish hue.

He hadn’t tried to approach her. She’d made it more than clear that she didn’t want him in her life, but that wasn’t how it was going to end. He couldn’t let it stop like that. Not after realizing that he loved her, even though he knew he shouldn’t.

At first, he’d considered storming Kelman’s house and confronting him-preferably with a loaded.45. After he’d calmed down, Raul had realized that kind of action would have been satisfying but useless. The man had put something into motion already, and if Raul killed him, who knew how it would end? He couldn’t go to him now. Instead, he’d stuck with Emma. Kelman would eventually show up, and if Raul stayed with her, he’d make sure she was safe.

She wasn’t aware of it, but he’d known where she was and what she was doing since he’d left her house last week. He’d even slept in the car outside her house at night, changing the rentals every day so there’d be no chance she’d recognize the vehicle.

When Kelman came, Raul would be ready.

Raul put the SUV in gear and joined the flow of movement, heading away from the bank, to follow the path of her taxi. There was a lot of traffic on the street already, and he had trouble keeping the vehicle in view. A short time later, it headed toward her neighborhood, and he dropped back some more. She wouldn’t recognize the rental he was driving, but the extra distance would make sure she didn’t see him.

She climbed out of the cab as soon as it stopped, paying the driver through the window before she turned and headed up the sidewalk. Parking down the street, Raul watched her stride toward the gate, an empty feeling of loss echoing deep inside him.

Darkness came early, a spring storm brewing. Under the cover of the cloudy sky, Raul slipped from the truck an hour later, reaching the house of Emma’s neighbor a few seconds after that. In the silence, he glanced around, then jumped straight up, his fingers barely making the edge of the tall, stuccoed wall. Scrambling over the top, he let go and fell into their yard, a hard thud accompanying his landing. He grunted, then rolled to his feet.

The people who lived in the house were gone; he’d seen them load their car the day before with enough suitcases to last a month. The live-in maid had waved goodbye, and two minutes after they’d driven away, she’d disappeared, as well. The house was empty.

Creeping through the heavy underbrush that lined the perimeter of the wall, Raul advanced stealthily to the rear of the garden. His plan was simple. Wait in Emma’s yard. It was the only way he could see Kelman’s arrival if he came in the back way-and he would. Kelman never approached anything head-on. The frustration Raul felt at not being able to do this sooner had been driving him crazy.

In the wall that separated the two houses, a series of decorative cutouts was carved, iron grillwork filling the spaces. Raul had seen the openings the night Emma had brought him into her backyard, but he hadn’t realized until now how clearly they showed her whole house from this angle. Glancing over now through the one closest to the street, he could see straight into her living room. He stopped abruptly and stared.

She was sitting in the room.

His breathing rasped in the hushed humid air, the sound as rapid as his heartbeat. Emma looked like a statue in contrast, carved and cold. She sat immobile, her blinking eyes her only motion. In her lap, her fingers were knit together. She might have been holding something, but he really couldn’t tell.

His throat burned, and all at once, he wanted to leap over the wall and tell her he was there and nothing could make him leave. He wanted to tell her he was sorry.

He wanted to tell her he loved her.

Lifting his hands, Raul wound his fingers in the lacy grillwork. The metal bars framed Emma, as if she was in a prison, and he shuddered as the idea burned into his brain.

A moment later, something heavy crashed into the side of his head. Raul collapsed into the grass, the night spinning around him.

THE MONKEY NEXT DOOR screamed, and Emma started, the heavy weapon almost rolling off her lap. She caught the gun at the last minute, her fingers closing around it reflexively, her nails digging into the rubber grip to leave half-moon marks of anxiousness. The animal frequently howled for no reason. As scary as the sound was, it signified nothing.

Telling herself to relax, she leaned back against the chair, her shoulders stiff and tight. Rotating the muscles first one way and then the other, she started to take a deep breath, then she froze. There was someone in the hallway of her house. The muffled step and corresponding creak of the board resounded in Emma’s heart. The monkey’s cry had obscured his entrance. Her pulse faltered when she heard the sound again. It was louder this time.

She was out of her chair and standing when he stepped into the doorway. They stared at each other for five seconds, Kelman’s eyes angry and cold, Emma matching his look, her determination fierce. He opened his mouth to speak, but she didn’t wait.