gripping the handrail. Near the nurses’ station,
a family friend stood with his back to her,
speaking with Detective Wilson. He said softly, “We’re all tired, Mark.
Maybe it’s time we all accept the inevitable and move on.”
Camila stopped dead. Her breathing broke into gasps.
Her pupils swallowed her eyes. Her whole body began to shake.
PART 3 Camila pressed herself against the wall as if
she wanted to melt into it. Her eyes never left the man’s back.
When he slowly began to turn toward the sound of her ragged breathing,
she whispered, so softly that everyone heard it: “It’s him.
It’s that voice.” She said it again and again, louder each time,
until her legs gave out and she slid to the floor,
her hands clamped over her ears.
The man who turned around was Trevor Klene, 29 years old.
For seven months he had been the picture of loyalty.
