Chapter 5

At seven forty the next morning, I sent Daniel one message.

St. Agnes. Room 214. Come alone.

He arrived nineteen minutes later. The door opened hard enough to strike the wall. Daniel stopped inside it, breathing as if he had run from the parking lot. For a moment, neither of us moved.

Then his face collapsed. He crossed the room and dropped beside my bed. His hands hovered over me, afraid to touch the bruises along my temple and ribs.

"Oh God, Mara."

He pressed his forehead against the back of my hand and cried. Not carefully. Not quietly. His…