Page 33 of Choosing Stella

I let the men run, kicked the stairwell door shut, and turned back to Stella.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Did either of them inject you?”

“No. I kicked it away.”

“Did the knife touch you?”

“No.”

Her breath hitched.

“I’m okay.”

She was upright.

For the next thirty seconds, that was enough.

“Stay where you are.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

I picked up the syringe by the capped end.

The syringe was loaded.

Beside it lay a bundle of heavy zip restraints that must have fallen from the first attacker’s coat.

The restraints and loaded syringe told me they had come to capture her, not kill her.

I set the syringe back beside the restraints and photographed the capture gear.

A compact communications unit had landed near the baseboard during the fight.

I crouched beside it.

Stella took one careful step closer.

“What is that?”

“Don’t touch it.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

A small mark was stamped beneath the screen.

THE EXCHANGE — SECURITY.

Below it was an equipment number rather than a personal name.

She’d seen it too.

“That came off one of them?”

“Yes.”