My heart is hammering as I lean up against the statue’s base, trying to keep myself calm. It’s around three in the morning and cooler than usual. I think I can smell rain in the air, but Noah assured me that it won’t matter either way.

I can’t see him, but I know he’s nearby. Or at least I hope he is. According to the plan, I’m supposed to wait and then do my thing. But I haven’t seen him in nearly an hour, and I’m starting to worry.

It’s been a week since the night we told each other that we loved each other. One week of bliss and preparation for Noah’s plan. At first, I have to admit that I was skeptical. I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do or not, but as he explained it to me again, I could tell that it was clear. If we pulled this off, we’d get away with everything.

But we have to pull it off first, I wasn’t sure that we could do it at first, but over the last few days, Noah has really drilled this down into me. I know my part by heart, and I know that I won’t screw it up. But it’s one thing to practice on his property over and over and another to actually do it in real life.

Not to mention the stakes are much higher tonight than they have been in days past. If I screwed up during practice, it didn’t matter. It just meant that Noah would punish me a little bit harder later that night, and frankly that wasn’t much of a deterrent.

But if I messed up tonight, it could mean our lives. Or worse, it could mean getting caught by the cops and thrown into prison. Everything hinges on this, and I’m nervous as hell.

I wish I could see him. I want to hear him reassure me one more time, though I know that I probably don’t need it. I know my role and truthfully it’s pretty small. Crucial, but small. Anyone could do it.

But it has to be me. We both agreed on that. I have to be a part of this.

I check my watch for the fiftieth time and when I look up, my heart nearly skips a beat. I can see clear across the city, down over the bridge, and the night is quiet. Nobody else has been out. Except walking toward me, just coming onto the bridge, is a person wearing all black.

It has to be her. My heart starts freaking out, beating so fast, and I have to turn away and calm myself. I’m so nervous it almost hurts. My palms are sweating and my knees feel shaky. I take deep, deep breaths and think about everything I talked about with Noah. I wonder if he can see me right now, but it doesn’t matter. I know what I have to do.

I stay up against the statue I’m standing next to. I’m hidden in the shadows and I know she can’t see me. Noah scouted this spot out and placed me here on purpose. I can see her, but she won’t be able to spot me, not yet at least. I adjust myself, cleaning up my appearance a little bit as she walks over the bridge. I wait until she’s about two thirds of the way across and then I begin to walk.

This is the hardest part. I have to time it right. As I step out onto the sidewalk and start moving toward her, I adjust my face, trying to look casual.

I glance up and take a quick look at her. She’s around my height, probably in her fifties, with dyed jet black hair and thick makeup. She’s pretty, or at least she once was when she was younger. She looks tired and stressed, and her eyes are down on the ground.

I look away and hurry. I’m moving too slow, and for a second I think I’m not going to make it.

But I do. We meet just as she gets to the end of the bridge. This is the spot, and I step toward her to make my move.

She steps back, looking surprised. She reaches toward her purse for something and I smile at her.

“Excuse me,” I say. “I’m so sorry. Am I going west right now? Or south? I’m like, I don’t know, a little drunk? And new in town. So I’m a little lost.”

She looks at me for a second then relaxes. I’m wearing a Northface jacket, a pair of black tights, and Ugg boots. I look like a typical college girl, and I’m even pretending to be a little drunk.

“You’re going west,” she confirms. “Where are you headed, sweetie?”

I can feel my excitement rising. If this is the right person, and it has to be, it’ll happen any second now.

“Like, my friend is out, I don’t know, like, out there somewhere?” I point west, in the direction she just came. “I forget what street. I know it’s in here somewhere,” I say, looking into my purse, pretending to be looking for my phone.

That’s the sign. It’s the sign. He should make his move.

Nothing happens.

I dig a second longer, trying to delay. “Shoot,” I say. “I can’t find it.”

“I can help, just let me know where you need to be. Or I can call a cab for you.”

She’s being surprisingly nice. I have to remind myself that she’s the Madame at a whorehouse which carries young girls.

“Cab? I don’t know, do I have money?” I keep talking, just to keep her distracted. “I think Joey said, like, I could walk home? I left that bar back there, you know that loud one, and Joey was all like, you’re so drunk. And I was like, I’m fine, you know? I’m fine. I’m a grown woman. I can do what I want.”

I can tell that the more I speak, the less interested this woman is. She’s inching away now, already trying to disengage herself from this conversation. I can’t let her get away, though. Noah should be here by now, should have made his move, but it’s quiet and I’m panicking.

I can feel it. I’m panicking. Deep inside my core I’m panicking, I’m terrified, this is almost my worst nightmare. Noah should have come out already, made his move, did his thing. But he’s not here and I’m alone with this horrible, terrifying woman, and I’m babbling like an idiot.

I can just walk away. I can just walk. If I do, I can get the nearest cab and be back at Noah’s place in an hour. It’ll cost me all the money I have on me, but what’s it matter? I can just walk away.

The panic steals my mind away from me. Fear does that. It’s the mind killer. I read that phrase is a book somewhere. Fear is the mind killer. Noah gave me a book with that phrase in it.

I take a step away from the Madame. She’s watching me, head cocked. She said something, but I missed it. I realize that I’ve been babbling about this fake party the whole time.

She’s suspicious. I can see it.

Then there’s a dark blur to my left. It’s fast and it’s terrifying as it flows up the bridge wall and descends onto the Madame.

She doesn’t have time to scream. Noah is on top of her, a syringe shoved into her neck, faster than I can even blink. I’m shocked as he looks up at me, the Madame collapsing into his arms.

“Get her feet,” he says.

My senses come back to me in a flood. I leap forward and grab her feet, just like we practiced. We carry her over to the edge of the bridge and, instead of water, there’s a ledge down below. Noah goes first, leaving the Madame dangling in my grip. Once he’s down, I release her. She drops onto him, knocking them to the ground, but we planned for that. I climb down after him once he’s up and seems okay.

It took maybe ten seconds at most. Once the Madame was out, we moved as fast as we could, and probably did that little maneuver faster than we ever did in practice. Noah rigged this complicated little training system in his house complete with a crazy-heavy practice dummy which we used to go over that little trick maybe a hundred times.

I help Noah carry the woman along the ledge and under the bridge. We disappear into the dark and then I throw myself at him.

His arms wrap me in a hug. “It’s okay,” he says softly. “It’s okay.”

“You didn’t come,” I say, nearly crying.

“I’m sorry. There was a homeless man looking through a trashcan. I had to wait for him to move on.”

I nod, getting myself together. He told me that was a possibility. If someone was around to witness that, he wouldn’t come out. He said I had to be prepared to stall.

I wasn’t prepared, not at all. I panicked. I almost ruined it.

“She saw through me,” I say. “I felt it.”

“She didn’t see anything,” he says. “It doesn’t matter. We have her.”

We part and then look down at the woman.

“Is that her?” I whisper.

“It’s her,” he confirms.

“She’s older than I would have thought.”

“Help me tie her up.”

Noah produces a rope and together we tie her hands and her feet. We make sure that they’re tight and then we bind her to a support for the bridge using the last of the rope.

The ledge isn’t wide, but it’s enough for the three of us. Noah looks at me and smiles, and I get a good look at him for the first time.

He’s dressed all in black, just like the night at my father’s and the night we took Sheer. He has a large backpack on his back filled with the most important parts of this whole thing. He drops it down to his side and pulls out a large knife, the same knife that I used to kill Mark.

“Ready?” he asks.

“I’m ready.”

“Just let me do the talking.” He takes another syringe from his bag and shoves this one in her neck.

It wakes her up with a start, just like Sheer woke up. She tries to thrash and she looks around wildly, but the ropes are tight and firm.

“Where--?”

“Don’t speak.” Noah gets right in her face. “If you scream or call out, you will die. Do you understand?”

I watch as she slowly comes under control of herself. It’s amazing. She goes from terrified and confused to totally in control in less than a few seconds. It’s totally unnerving, actually.

“What do you want?” she asks quietly.

“The place you work.”

She watches Noah for a second. She glances at me and then back to him. “You’re the one that’s been watching us.”

He looks surprised, but he quickly controls himself. “So you noticed me.”

“We notice everything,” she says.

“Then I guess we don’t have much time.”

“No. Probably not.”

“Who do you work for?”

She smiles. “Do you really want to know?”

“Speak.” Noah’s face is hard and controlled. I’m trying to stay as calm as him, but I doubt I’m doing a good job.

“There are people in this world, powerful people with lots of money. They can keep a place like mine in business for a very long time. Even with the sort of services we provide.”

“What kind of services?” I blurt out.

She looks at me and smiles. “Anything you can imagine, we cater to.”

“Who are they?” Noah asks, drawing her gaze back to him.

“Governors. Mayors. Senators. Bankers. Business men. Lawyers. People with means and some without.”

Noah’s expression grows darker. “I want names.”

“No,” she says. “I’ll die before I give you names.”

“Okay then.” He turns to me. “Amelia?”

“No,” I say softly. “It’s your turn.”

He smiles. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Truth is, I want to watch. I know I’ll kill again one day, but not tonight. He put so much work into this moment, and he deserves it more than anything. I can’t imagine taking the pleasure of the kill away from him.

He takes the knife and holds it against her chest.

“One less scumbag on the earth,” he whispers to her. “Good luck.”

“Wait—“ Her eyes go wide.

He plunges the knife into her chest.

I watch Noah’s face. It’s pure ecstasy, pure pleasure. He watches her face as it drains of life, the blood pooling all around her.

He exhales and slowly pulls the knife from her chest.

We sit there in silence together, looking at her body. She looks smaller in death, less menacing. Her eyes are open but Noah doesn’t close them.

“Okay,” he says. “One last thing.”

He reaches into his bag and pulls out a tooth. He puts it into the Madame’s pocket. He pulls out a shoelace and he wraps it around her wrist. Once he’s done, he stands.

“Let’s go.”

I stand up and stare at her body. Sheer’s tooth and his shoelaces were Noah’s whole plan. He believes that even if it seems totally improbable and unlikely, they’ll think that the Madame was Sheer’s killer all along, thereby clearing me. Or at least they won’t be looking for me so hard.

“Noah,” I say.

He pauses and looks at me. For a second, I can’t help but imagine what my life would have been like without him. I can see myself, poor and alone, struggling to get by. I can see myself with the darkness locked inside of me with no way out. I can see myself drinking more and more, doing drugs, doing anything to find some ounce of relief, but I never do. I can see myself dying young, pathetic, alone, afraid, in a gutter, with nothing.

But I don’t need to see any of that. I don’t need to see it, not anymore, not with Noah in my life. He’s here and I’m here and we’re doing this together. We’re leaving town, running away, starting over, making a new life together. We’re beating the system and leaving one last Fuck You for the bad people of this city.

I don’t know what it’ll be like somewhere else. All I know is that I want to find out. I want to be there with him, wherever it is. He can bring me to that next place, make it better, make it great.

I smile at him and nod my head once. “Okay. Let’s go.”

He takes my hand and we leave the Madame’s dead body behind us. We don’t look back.