He will die in there.”

I looked down at the decree in my hands and felt, again, neither triumph nor hatred, only a still and level quiet.

Damon had believed he was the cleverest man in every room he walked into.

He had worn his fine suits and offered his practiced sorrow and been so sure that a quick fire would erase his secrets forever.

He had looked at a tired old ER nurse and a frightened little girl and seen two soft obstacles he could brush out of his way.