na's

ons stewing in their own rage. My heart is pounding, but my st

unresolved tension. People watch me pass with a

a still-sobbing Kaley. He looks lost and impote

ape, to breathe air that isn't tain

ear Christion Wilder speaking quietl

oice low and devoid of the public formality he use

The instability is the problem... No, she handled hers

t, Saint. I'll keep yo

The legendary, feared President of the entire

desk of the most powerful man in this world. A shiver of a different kind of fear, mixed with a

k surprised. He simply gives me a curt,

s my face, a welcome shock. I just want to get in my car and go home-to t

ed with motorcycles and a few high-end car

voice screeches behind me.

lotchy with rage. Mr. Pennington

after what you did?" she spits.

s my car. "I'm going

reading across her face. "You made your bed.

of my face, then drops them into her

from here, down a dark, unlit country road

en be independent. Walk home. Maybe the cold wil

defiance. To leave me stranded, to humiliat

le but says nothing. He

e won't intervene in his wife's "domestic

y the harsh parking lot lights. They expect me to

scanning the rows of veh

gins to form in my mind. A