The Blood on His Hands

lla

e was loose, a small, dried coffee stain on his shirt col

rcles hung under his eyes. He looked drained fro

s onto the kitchen counter. "Their legitimate stocks plummeted

glass on the coffee table a little closer to my side, cros

his broad shoulders casting a dark

ou need to take the fall. Confess that you are a goomah. Tell them you

him. "Are you o

restores Serena's image and stabilizes my alliances. I a

o put a target on my back," I fired bac

on the arms of the couch and trapping

y. "Or I pull my protection from your f

the door so hard the w

partment. For three days, I igno

sent a final text: "

I had met outside the library. I bet that

t the

my phone rang at noo

ternoon. The Syndicate tipped them off about the tax evasion and the illicit contracts. Th

leaded, panic rising in my

ton was using me to control you?" my father interr

ays been able to se

my apartment

d, hot tears spil

and," he s

sconnected

d my fingernails until they bled, my eyes

een lit up. It was

ore the first rin

ing. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Your father jumped from the roof of his building twenty minutes ago. He was

y hand and shattered aga

reathe. I cou

ckered on, I was already barefoot on the dusty stair landing

ough the freezing city streets. The concrete tore

y room just before dawn, my lun

ench in the waiting area. She was hunche

falling to my kne

me, and her

he whispered, her voice

Her eyes rolled back into her head

f the way, loading her onto a gurney and rushing he

heavily. A tacky sensation met the soles of my feet, the coarse texture of half-

walked out. He looked at me and shook his head. "M

slid open, and Preston rushed inside. He w

e me. "I'm sorry. I swear to God, I did not know th

him. He was a gho

ing left to th