Chapter 143

Rose ran across the motel parking lot, her mind racing faster than her feet. The worn soles of her expensive shoes slapped against cracked asphalt as panic clawed at her chest. Herod was going to tell the FBI She reached her car, not her car, really, but one of

Herod's cars. Her hands shook ashe fumbled with the keys. The recorder. The damned recorder he'd shown her. How long had he been recording their conversations? What exactly had she said? Rose stopped, the key halfway to the lock.

She couldn't run. Not yet. Not while Herod sat in that motel room with a phone pressed to his ear, her name on his lips, and evidence of her crimes in his pocket.

In the distance, sirens wailed. Still far away, but coming closer.

Rose looked back at Room 17, its faded blue door visible from where she stood. Behind that door sat the man who

could destroy everything she'd built. Everything she'd sacrificed for.

If he talked, it was over.

If he lived, she was finished.

Rose reached into her bag, her fingers wrapping around the cold metal of the gun she'd bought from one of Anton Bessonov's men. She'd never fired it. Had never planned to. It was just insurance, protection a rough types she had to deal with for their plan.

Now it was her only option.

The weight of the weapon felt strange in her hand as she pulled

it from her bag. She'd watched enough movies to know how to hold it, how to aim. But the reality of it, the solid heaviness of death in her palm, made her stomach turn.

Rose didn't allow herself to hesitate. Hesitation was for weak people. For people like Camille, always looking for someone else to make decisions for her. Rose wasn't weak. She'd proven that time and again. The sirens grew louder. Minutes, maybe seconds before they arrived.

She walked back toward Room 17, each step steady despite the storm inside her mind. All those years fighting to escape the foster

system. All those years pretending to be the perfect adopted daughter. All those

years watching Camille get everything Rose deserved.

She wouldn't let Herod take it all away. Not now. Not when she was so close to winning.

Outside Room 17, Rose paused, listening. Through the thin door, she could hear Herod's voice, the words unclear but the tone unmistakable. He was telling them. Giving them details. Betraying her. Rose raised the gun, aimed at the door, and pulled the trigger.

The explosion of sound shocked her. The gun jumped in her hand, the recoil stronger than she expected. A hole appeared in the cheap wooden door.

Inside, Herod's voice stopped.

Not enough. She couldn't be sure. She fired again.

And again. Three holes now punctured the door, forming a rough triangle.

Silence from inside the room.

Rose stepped closer, pressed her ear to the door. Nothing. Not even movement.

Had she hit him? Was he dead? Wounded?

She had to know. Had to be sure.

her left hand, Rose turned the doorknob slowly. The door swung open

Herod lay

his hand. Blood spread across his chest, staining his white shirt with expanding circles of red. His eyes were open, staring at the ceiling, his mouth moving slightly "Rose," he managed, the name barely

Successfully unlocked!

the gun still raised. You should

words

And if they come after me, I'll tell them you were obsessed with me. That you forced me

1/4

Chapter 143

hers, filled with a clarity that unnerved her. Even

always believe me, Herod." Rose's finger tightened on the trigger again. "Everyone always does fmvery convers He tried to reach for

recorder?"

opened again. The ghost of

him, keeping the gun aimed at his head while her free hand searched

at the corner of his

surged through Rose again.

blocks away. "Tell me where it is, or 13 make your

word seemed to cost him tremendous effort. "You can't

aiming the gun directly at his face.

do..." Herod's voice faded to a whisper. "Charles... would be...

in Rose's chest. Even dying,

with a gun pointed at his face, he

tightened on

sirens screamed into the parking lot outside, red and blue lights flashing through the thin curtains. Car doors

for a clean shot anymore. She

beside Herod's head. Not a kill shot, but enough to make her point.

the bathroom window.

smaller. She forced it open and squeezed through, dropping into the narrow alley behind the motel. Her car was out front, now blocked by

away from the motel,

away from the man she'd shot but not killed. Her mind

each step.

recorder, without proof, it would be his word against hers.

She'd

of that arranged already, in case their plan went wrong. In

she reached a

draw attention to herself. She smoothed

fear from her face. The gun went back into her bag. hidden beneath

taxi approached. Rose raised her hand,

asked as she slid into

Rose said. "I've

taxi pulled

past in the opposite direction. More units responding to the shooting.

the

focus. This wasn't over. She could still win. She just needed

one, but replaceable. She'd find another way to destroy

Herod lived? If

in her bag, her finger tracing its deadly shape

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