ene

he silent room. I froze, my hand hovering over

silk scarf over the scattered items. My movements were p

the dim hallway light. His expensive suit was torn, his face bruised and

nife-a harsh punctuation mark in the silence-and began stripping off

What ha

was a trap. Those men-they weren't after he

he al

peared." He shook his head. "Always the damsel in

t. I cleaned the wound, my fingers brushing agains

cation: Your flight to the

cking onto mine. "Maldive

-after tonight, after all the stress-we

u did this for us?" His voice held an emotion I hadn't heard in years: wistful hope. He actually bought it. He w

ing his wound. "T

letters, Arlene. The ones Arthur read

y were a long time ago, Julian. A lifetime ago.

t do you feel

n't dream, Juli

tween us, his hand reaching for my

mell like Bla

ged, Arlene. You're no

n you married died a long time

t. "But you're still my wife,

hat's my duty. But that's all

covers over myself-a silent barrier

Arlene. You'll be a

. Then he wrapped his injured arm around me, pulling me

d unmoving, my eyes w

igned. The papers are folded inside my suitcase. My flight is booked under a name he doesn

ark, that tomorrow would be the day