Chapter 3

I saw Shane sprawled there, one hand clamped around Lola's wrist, his face strained with effort.

Lola was dangling above the ground, tears streaming down her face as she cried out his name. "Shane, save me. I don't want to die."

"Lola, don't be afraid. I'll pull you up." Shane's voice was gentle yet filled with urgency, a tone I had never heard from him before.

I looked down at Jane in my arms.

She was still staring at me, but her gaze was growing distant.

Her hand moved, trying to grab my clothes, but she couldn't get a grip.

Jane finally managed to whisper, her voice barely audible, "Mommy... it hurts..."

Then her hand fell limply.

Her eyes stayed open.

She just kept looking at me.

"Jane?" I whispered.

I shook her gently.

"Jane? Jane, please, look at me," I said.

There was no response.

I looked up at the edge of the rooftop.

Shane had pulled Lola up.

Lola threw herself into his arms, shaking as she sobbed, and Shane gently patted her back, whispering something to calm her down.

People started gathering around them.

No one looked at me.

No one looked at Jane.

I lifted Jane into my arms.

She was lighter than I thought, as light as a feather.

The blood still dripped onto the ground, onto my shoes, onto every step I took.

I walked toward the edge of the rooftop.

I moved toward Shane.

I said, "Shane."

He turned around.

The instant he saw me holding Jane in my arms, his expression finally changed.

There was a flash of shock, of disbelief, and something else.

I had no idea what it was.

Maybe guilt, maybe regret, or something else. But it vanished in an instant.

"We can always have another kid if this one is gone," he said.

Then Shane looked at Lola in his arms, his eyes rimmed with red, his voice quivering.

He added, "But if she's gone, she's really gone."

I literally laughed at that moment.

I heard myself laughing out loud, my whole body trembling, tears streaming down my face. Jane's blood kept dripping onto the ground, pooling at his feet, but he didn't even look down.

He was focused on Lola.

He had only ever looked at Lola.

"Okay," I said.

I picked up Jane, turned, and headed for the edge of the rooftop.

I heard voices shouting behind me. I heard Antonio's voice, the gasps of strangers, and Shane calling my name once.

I didn't look back.

I held Jane in my arms and jumped off.

I thought death would be the end of everything.

But when I opened my eyes again, I saw the gray overcast sky, heard the howling wind, and smelled the metallic tang of blood and the damp scent of concrete.

I found myself lying on the rooftop.

My knee still ached from where Shane had pushed me to the ground.

I sat up abruptly.

Thirty feet in front of me, a man in a gray jacket had his left arm locked around my daughter's neck, a kitchen knife pressed to her delicate throat.

Jane was wearing that pink sweater, her face flushed red and streaked with tears.

She said, "Mommy... Mommy, I'm scared."

I looked down at my hands.

There was no blood.

They were clean.

I looked at my clothes. No blood. I looked at my shoes. No blood. There was nothing.

The wind was still blowing.

The knife was still at Jane's throat.

Shane still lay prone sixty feet away, his gun raised to his scope, searching.

I stood up.

My legs felt weak, but I managed to stand.

I walked toward Shane, step by step.

Antonio saw me and opened his mouth to say something, but I ignored him. I walked over to Shane and crouched down beside him.

His eye was pressed to the scope, and the muzzle of his gun was slowly moving. It shifted away from Jane's direction, to the right.

It was exactly the same as the previous time.

"Shane," I said calmly.

He didn't respond.

"Shane," I called out again, a little louder this time.

Shane frowned and shot me a look. "Daisy, don't interfere with my mission."

It was exactly the same as the previous time.

I laughed.

Then I looked down. By some chance, there was a gun lying on the ground.

I had no clue where this gun came from.

I picked it up. It was heavy and cold in my hand.

Maybe it was a gift from the universe.

Maybe it was Jane, watching over me from somewhere, giving it to me.

I pressed the muzzle of the gun against the back of Shane's head.

He froze.

"Daisy?" There was disbelief in his voice and a touch of caution. "What are you doing?"

Every SWAT officer around froze.