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“Maybe I should be more like you.”

He looked at me and grinned, raising his glass in a salute. “Damn right you should be.” He took a long sip, nearly finishing the glass.

I laughed, and just as I was about to tell him he’s an idiot, there was a deep, floor-shaking boom from somewhere nearby.

I sat still, blinking, staring around. Luca sat up straight, pushing my feet off him. He threw back the rest of the whiskey and listened, his back straight, not moving an inch.

“What was that?” I asked. “I felt it in my chest. That was like…”

“Explosion,” he said.

And then there were more. Not quite as deep, but booming and rhythmic. Deep, sharp barks, muted by the halls, but close by.

He got to his feet. “Stay here.”

“Luca?”

“Stay here.” He looked at me, his eyes hard. “Don’t move.”

More barking grunts, compounded by shouts, a few screams. Luca ran to the door and pushed it open, looking both ways, before disappearing into the hall.

I jumped to my feet. There were more shouts from somewhere, more explosions. Another one, deep and sharp, rocked the ground around me. Dust fell from the light fixtures and a lamp rattled on the sideboard. I ran to the door and threw it open, looking out into the hall.

My mother was looking out of her room, and I could see the fear etched in her eyes.

“What’s going on?” I called to my mom.

She shook her head. “Those are guns, I think. Serious guns.”

More clattering, more shouts, more booms.

“A lot of guns,” I said.

“Get back inside.” I turned to see Luca coming toward me. He wore a bulletproof vest over his shirt and held his Glock in his hands, his eyes hard and serious. “Get in your room.”

“Should we stay here?” I asked. “What if something bad’s happening?”

“Something bad is happening,” he said. “Go get your mom and stay in her room.”

I hesitated but I saw the look on his face. I nodded and hurried down the hall toward my mother. “We need to go inside,” I said.

“What’s going on?” she asked, staring at Luca.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But please, Mrs. Riva.”

Mom opened her mouth to argue but I shook my head and nudged her to the door. “Mom, come on.”

She shut her mouth, let me pull her into the room. Luca followed, shut the door behind us, and strode to the phone next to the bed. I took Mom to the couch and sat her down as more gunfire erupted, this time sounding closer. There were screams, shouting, and it sounded like chaos was breaking out all around.

Luca picked up the phone and waited. I could see the tension all over him.

“Eunice,” he barked. “What’s happening?”

Silence for a moment. His face fell, and I knew right away, I knew in that instant.

They were coming for me.

“Right,” he said. “Right. I understand. How many?” Another long silence. “How bad?” Another silence. More gunshots made my mother jump and I could see her terror, written in every muscle. “Fine,” Luca said. “I’ll make it happen.”

He slammed the phone down and turned to us.

“Luca?” I asked. “What’s happening? What’s going on?”

“Jalisco,” he said, his eyes hard. “They hit the mansion.”

“What?” my mom said, recoiling. “Those are gunshots?”

“Gunshots, explosions, screams.” He waved his hand like that was nothing. “Worse to come. You two need to accept that this is happening, and the only way out is to stick with me.”

“No,” my mom said. “Oh my god, no, this is insane. Call the police!”

Luca stared at her, and I could almost see the mental calculations.

“We can’t do that,” I said to my mom, grabbing her hand. “You know that.”

“This isn’t a game, Clair,” she hissed at me. “Those are real guns downstairs. Someone might get killed.”

“Plenty of people are hurt already,” Luca said. “And if we don’t get moving, we’re going to end up dead with them.”

I squeezed Mom’s hand hard and made her look at me. I leaned toward her and tried my best to remain calm, even if I felt like I was screaming on the inside.

“We have to go with Luca,” I said, voice as gentle as I could make it, though it quavered like a broken radio. “We have to go with him right now, Mom. We have no other options.”

She opened her mouth to argue but snapped it shut when more gunshots cracked through the house. They sounded closer now, louder, and the shouts were more distinct, though remained impossible to understand.

“Okay,” she said through a clenched jaw, eyes brimming with fear. “Okay, okay, okay. I can do this.”

“You can do this,” I said, and stood up. I helped her to her feet and turned to Luca.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready.”

He met my gaze and I got the sense he wanted to say more.

But he strode to the door without a word, pulled it open, and looked outside.

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