he penthouse required a k

ht flashed red, then green. The doors slid open,

g only made the d

lip had swollen, splitting fresh when she tried to straighten her face. The coat she clut

e foyer, Abigail

omewhere in the apartment, a clock ticked with mechanical precision,

Shep

ping her hands on her apron. The housekeeper

Oh my God, w

d up one ha

teen years, long enough to know the boundaries, long enough to recog

smooth, practiced. "I was at a gallery op

espite the tremor in her hands. "At least let me g

small, dark spot on the marble wh

f the words were in a foreign language.

e. Let me call Dr. Chen. Or the hospital

ftened it, seeing Brenda flinch. "No doctors.

g the damage she couldn't hide. The limp. The way she held he

rely a whisper. "Did he call? Di

n the wall. "Mrs. Shepard... Mr. Shepard is probably very bus

while she bled in a gutter. The agonizing sting of betrayal pierced her chest so deeply that, fo

nodded slowly. "

ood alone in the foyer, dripping on the marble, and wondered how much longer she

usekeeper set it on the bathroom counter, her eyes still wide

ath, her silk blouse was torn at the shoulder, stained with rust-colored water. Her sk

she made the water as

hit her bruised skin. Then the heat came, building, and she lean

n brown for

away pieces of Brooklyn. The fear. The desperation. The moment

the hot water started to cool, until she couldn't

hick Turkish cotton swallow her. His robe, technically, monogrammed

ottle of iodine awaited. The label was wo

r, Abigail pulled her wet

ite of subcutaneous tissue at its center, the edges already da

a cotton pad, she pr

the robe's belt, muffling the sound that tried to escape. Her eyes watered

rst of it. The lip, she left alon

No label. Dr. Chen's discreet handwriting on the prescription p

to her palm, Abigail

mbed into the guest bed and pulled the covers to he

s, she waited f

nd her

The boots.

closed in, and she could he

e begged into

hands clawing at the sheets, her hea

ee the Manhattan skyline through the win

ow beside her. Cold.

io Shepard and Candace Padilla: A Match Made in Paris." There were photos of them smiling, walking close together. She stared at the s

broken, hunted sleep, and now she was awake in the

d her breaths, waiting

king up too. Probably reaching for his phone, checking markets, checking m

was still asleep, tangled in sheets tha

il sa

make her gasp. She pressed her hand against the bandage on he

dly matt

glass. The city spread below her, indifferent, magnificent, full of

ld surv

Having survived worse, she k

the way she'd held onto the broken glass in the alley, knowing

eared the buildings, Abigail waited unti

painkillers, but she knew Attilio kept a stash of strong prescription painkill

As she reached for the handle, she noticed a heavy file folder tucked just out of sight in the bottom drawer, slightl