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She’s such a light sleeper. Maybe one day she’ll feel safe enough around me to sleep soundly.
I dim the bedside lamp before turning it on. She closes her eyes.
I’m about to break her heart—again.It’s the last thing I want.
I sit on the bed beside her and take her hand. She’s wide awake now. “Nelia’s dead,” she whispers into the dimly lit room.
“We still don’t know anything about Nelia.” I suck in a long breath, then blow it out slowly. “Isabel was killed last night.”
Her face is blank. And she’s still—eerily still and far away. I feel like I’ve lost her.
“Daniela,” I prod gently, tightening my hold on her hand.
“Someone killed Isabel?”
I nod. “Yes.” The word twists from my chest, and I watch, helpless, as it lands in her heart like a poison dart.
“Valentina?” she asks, blinking rapidly. “Did someone kill Valentina?”
Daniela’s body is here, but her affect is off,way off, and her mind is somewhere else entirely.
“As far as we know, she’s safe.”
She pales as a burst of light flashes in her eyes. “No!” she shrieks. “No!”
She pulls her hand away and leaps up, standing on the bed, clutching the sheet. She’s trembling when I reach for her.
“You’re going to fall. You need to come down.”
She shakes her head vehemently, clutching the sheet closer.
“Daniela.” I say her name much too firm and loud, because I don’t know how to bring her back, so I go directly to my default setting.
As callous as it is, it seems to work.
She lowers herself to the bed and stands, her feet firmly planted on the floor.
“I need to go to Fall River. Right now!” she cries when I don’t move.
I take tight hold of her upper arms. “We can’t. Not right now. Someone tried to kill you yesterday, and now Isabel. You can call Valentina.”
“No!” she screams in my face. “I need to go. Right now.”
I’ve seen her frayed at the edges and downright terrified, but I’ve never seen her like this. Not even when she thought I was going to throw her to my guards and kill her when they were done using her.
“You can’t go right now,” I say with as much compassion as a man like me knows. “It’s too dangerous. Isabel’s daughter is not your responsibility.”
Daniela’s face tightens, as though in agony.
Her dark eyes scour my face, rifling through my soul, searching for something she desperately needs. That’s how it feels.
“How can I help?”
Her eyes are still glued to my face, but she doesn’t respond.
“Let me help you.” I step toward her, and she stumbles back, a lone tear trickling down her cheek.
“Valentina,” she whimpers. “Valentina is ... isn’t.” Her voice is a wobbly, hoarse whisper, as though she’s trying out the words for the first time.
