Elizabeth and I stay in Rarotonga another four days. Without the threat of imminent death hanging over our heads, we actually talk. Slowly and tentatively, we get to know each other. And I learn what it took to make her break.

Me.

“I should have known Maddoc wouldn’t risk Alexis turning on him. He brought her in so young. It warped her.” Tears fill her eyes. “It was always too late to save her. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry, Eden.”

I shrug off her apology. We’re about six parallel dimensions past I’m sorry for all the shit that’s gone down.

“I didn’t know, either,” I reply muted. “She was a great actress.”

Elizabeth shudders, staring sightlessly toward the sea visible from our balcony. Giving no indication that she heard me, she continues, “She wanted you dead. I heard her talking to Maddoc, trying to convince him you weren’t worth the risk of keeping alive. So I made a deal with him. Your life for the details you gave me about the bank and money. Maddoc was many things, but always stood on his word. He overruled Alexis.”

“Why did they keep you alive?”

“I gave them enough to confirm the account existed—your social security number and information so Alexis could call. But I only told them one of the account numbers every day.”

“Huh. Wish I’d thought of that.” I take a deep breath of the moist, tropical air. “I wonder if Maddoc was surprised when the monster he made killed him.”

“I’m sure he was. A parental failing, perhaps—seeing our children as who we want them to be rather than who they are.”

The similarities to Liam and his own father don’t escape me. Or surprise me. Creations killing creators isn’t new to mythos, literature, or psychology. Freud especially would have a blast analyzing the Donnellys and Rourkes.

“At least in your case, I was right,” continues Elizabeth. “You are exactly as strong as I knew you were from the moment you were born.”

I’m not strong. Beneath my diamond shell, I’m shattered. A million flecks of blackest dust. But I don’t say it. Keeping my mouth shut so she can find a measure of peace with her choices is a small price to pay.

“You didn’t break,” I muse aloud. “Just made a deal.”

Elizabeth glances at me, one brow raised. The sunset glows in her cracked-marble eyes.

“Sharpe women don’t break.”

My smile is grim. “No, we don’t.”

At least on the outside.

* * *

Elizabeth asks a billion questions about my childhood, high-school years, med school, and my brief career as a doctor. Neither of us mention the gaps in my timeline—meeting Liam and Alexis post-graduation, the six weeks in the basement, and the months with Maria in Los Mochis. Elizabeth drinks my words like water, smiling wistfully and tearing-up in intervals.

I learn, too, about her life since escaping Maddoc. What it was like after she left me with my adoptive parents. Various careers and cities she lived in for long stretches before paranoia set in and she moved on. She really loved Tucson, Arizona, and is considering a permanent home there.

When she asks me where I want to go, I know she means where I want to make a home. Since I don’t have an answer, I tell her Philomath. It’s my first stop, anyway, so not entirely a lie.

On Thursday morning, we take a cab to the airport to meet Hernandez. Since neither Elizabeth nor I have valid passports, he arranged for private transportation back to the U.S. courtesy not of the FBI, but of the CIA. Disenchanted after the leak of my involvement with bringing down the Donnelly family in Los Angeles, Hernandez found greener pastures.

As we board the private plane, I ask him why he kept his old FBI phone number. And when he looks at me in confusion, I shake my head and say, “Never mind.”

Just another lie.

* * *

More hours are lost on the flight to Los Angeles, but only three this time. When we finally land and taxi to our gate, it’s nearing 10 p.m. Elizabeth is fast asleep in her seat beside mine, while across from me, Hernandez bends to pack away his laptop. When he’s done, he gives me a solemn look.

“I want to apologize for the leak that put your life in danger.”

I nod. “Thanks, but my life was in danger anyway. Liam was right about one thing—once Maddoc found me, he wasn’t planning on letting me go.”

“Did you…” he clears his throat, “talk to him before you left?”

My brows lift. “You were there for our last conversation. Pretty sure it was self-explanatory.”

Hernandez shifts in his seat, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “You’re certainly entitled to make the best choice for yourself, and I know as well as anyone that Rourke is a criminal, but… well… there are certain things you haven’t been told.”

I snort. “No shit, Sherlock. Care to enlighten me?”

He shakes his head, grimacing. “Against my better judgement, I swore I wouldn’t say anything more. Except… he told me to tell you that if you want to find him, he’ll be waiting.”

My shriveled heart thumps with momentary life, then goes numb again. “Thanks for the cryptic message.”

He shrugs, clearly relieved to have gotten it over with. “Do what you want with it, Eden.” He pauses, gazing out the window at the approaching terminal. “There’s only one thing about this case that still bothers me.”

“What’s that?”

“A long time ago, before you were born, Donnelly was suspected of stealing diamonds from a Chinese diplomat. But when we seized all his assets and account records, there was no sign of anywhere near the type of wealth we expected. Nor did we find the diamonds at any of his properties.”

“Maybe he took them with him,” I say, shrugging.

Hernandez shakes his head. “If he had, he would have had no problem rebuilding his organization outside the U.S. But the three men arrested are all that’s left of the Donnelly crime syndicate.” His dark eyes pierce mine. “Do you know what I think?”

My heart races. My palms itch with panic.

“What?” I make myself ask.

“I think that whoever has the diamonds, they probably deserve them.”

* * *

The first thing I do after disembarking is lead Elizabeth as far away from Hernandez as I can, as fast as I can. Then I find a payphone. When Liam took my phone away six years ago, I developed the habit of memorizing numbers. One of the first ones I memorized is what I dial now.

Karina and I have kept in close contact over the years. She did what I asked and rented an art studio with the money I gave her. Nowadays, she’s a minor celebrity with a dedicated following of A-listers. A fact neither myself nor Raul let her forget.

She doesn’t answer the first time, so I fish out another quarter and dial again.

On the fifth ring, she answers groggily, “What?”

“Hey, K. It’s me.” There’s a long silence. “Sorry, it’s Eden. Hello?”

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” she asks stonily. “Who the fuck are you? How did you get this number?”

I start laughing. Then I start crying. “It’s really me, I swear. Remember when we decided that drunk roller-skating should be a thing, then spent twenty-four hours with ice on our asses?”

Karina swears loudly, then sobs. “Eden? Eden! Holy shit, girl. Where are you? What happened?”

“It’s a long fucking story, but right now I’m at LAX. I’m with my biological mom, believe it or not, and we need a place to crash for the night.”

There’s a thump and a curse, then Karina’s familiar, beloved laughter and more crying. “Crap, I just fell out of bed. Can you wait for twenty? I’ll come get you right now.”

I wipe at my eyes, my heart filled with the first true joy it’s felt in what seems like years. “Yes, we’ll wait. Thank you.”

Keys jingle and a door slams. “Oh my God, Eden, I can’t believe it. I’m so glad you’re okay.” She breaks down into deep, shuddering sobs. “Fuck, I need to pull my shit together before I get in the car. You swear you’ll wait for me?”

“Yes, I swear. We’ll wait on the curb at the end of the arrival terminal. I’ll be the bitch sobbing and waving.”

She laughs. “Okay, honey. Hang tight.”

I slowly hang up the receiver and turn to Elizabeth. Tears in her own eyes, she embraces me tightly. And when we part, she smiles and hands me another quarter.

“Call your parents.”

So I do.