Chapter 12: After Midnight

Brent did not run.

He walked out of the loft at a normal pace, with his head up, and went down three flights of stairs into a street full of phones.

His lawyer trailed behind him with his tie crooked.

Nobody stopped him.

Nobody had to. Every camera in the building was already pointed at the door.

The redhead sat on the edge of her rented sofa, shaking, and said into the lens, "I'm going offline. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

The counter fell to zero and then went black.

Shelby stood in the middle of the room with her phone against her chest.

I crossed the floor and put my hand on her arm.

She flinched.

Then she looked at me, and I saw that her left cheek was swollen under the powder.

"Not tonight," I said. "Whatever it is. Not here."

"Leigh..."

"Go to my father. He's got a car. He'll take you somewhere safe."

My father was already at her elbow, holding out his overcoat.

"Come on, young lady," he said. "Nobody's going to say a word to you."

She went.

I watched them go down the stairs.

Nick stood by the brick wall where he had promised to stand.

"You looked like furniture," I said.

"I'm not very good at it."

"No."

"Where's your hotel?"

"Twelve blocks."

"Walk with me," he said.

We walked.

The night was cold and clear, and the river wind came up every cross street.

He took off his coat and put it over my shoulders for the second time, and this time I did not give it back.

At the hotel, the same clerk gave us the same quiet look.

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